Project: Vegeta
by Bulmaveg-Otaku
Summary: Bulma is a bossy, vain, selfish genius. Vegeta is an arrogant, prideful, merciless killer. But underneath it all they are both so much more. Bulma takes it on herself to help Vegeta lighten up, but will she be prepared to face the consequences? *FINISHED!
1. Of Dreams And Crash Landings

1A/N: Okay people, I've finally done it. After years and years of fascination bordering on obsession I've finally figured out how I think IT happened. I've used a lot of scenes right out of the show, so bare with me it the first part seems a little familiar. I've tried to keep everyone as in character as possible. Let me know if you think if I succeeded or not. It might take a while for this to get going, so again, I appreciate your patience.

Thanks!

Bulmaveg_Otaku

Disclaimer: I don't own it. If I did I'd have made the Saiyans Nudists.

Project: Vegeta

A cool silence had settled over the Capsule Corps. Compound. Standing in the doorway of her bedroom balcony, Bulma Briefs surveyed the night sky as a light breeze softly tossed her curls around her face. Inhaling the night air, she felt a quiet energy enter her body as though she had breathed in the stars themselves. Her filmy nightgown fluttered around her thighs and her skin broke out in goose bumps.

'Something is coming', she thought with a smile as she scanned overhead. 'Something...'

In the distance there was the tiniest flash of light and then... the swelling of a roar. Suddenly that speck grew, coming closer, a falling star or perhaps... something else. Within instants a humanoid shape became apparent, a dark, masculine outline that was indiscernible against the backdrop of the darkness. The moon had slipped behind a small puff of gray clouds and the sky had dimmed even more. Gripping her railing she leaned closer trying to put a name to the shape.

'Not tall enough for Goku, or Yamcha for that matter...' she leaned further, her hips pressing into the cold metal rails. 'Krillin maybe....? Or...' The weight of her body shifted and she felt her center of gravity move too far beyond the safety guard.

"Oh no!" she shrieked as she lost her footing and felt her body topple over, rushing towards the ground. Her grip on the rail slipped and she closed her eyes hoping for a quick and painless end. Half a second later there was a small jerk as her momentum stopped abruptly.

"Uhh..." Bulma grunted, though surprise far out weighted her fright. 'That didn't hurt at all.' She wondered why and cracked one eye, daring a peek.

It seemed like the momentarily forgotten mystery man had rescued her, scooped her out of the air with ease, and now hovered just a few feet above the ground. She felt strong arms around her, but still could not make out her savior. Then, the moon decided to reveal its light once more and slide from behind it's soft cottony cover. Her eyes locked onto a face, slowly being illuminated. First a strong chin, pouting bottom lip and slim, straight nose, and then the eyes that met hers in an intimidating gaze. Eyes as deep as infinite wells, draped by a strong sleek brow that rose into and impossibly high widow's peak that gave way to a shock of wild, flame shaped hair.

"Vegeta!" Bulma gasped softly with just the smallest tingling of fear in her stomach. Her mind sputtered around the fact that the formally evil Saiyan Prince had just saved her.

"You'll want to be more careful, girl. We wouldn't want to damaging your fragile self, now, would we?"Vegeta said in a voice barley above a whisper.

Bulma's shock dissipated and her brow creased. "Girl?" she asked indignantly. She felt as his feet touched ground, having descended as gently as a feather. Pushing off his chest, she slid herself out of his arms and stepped back.

Vegeta's face lightened with amusement. His eyes swept lower, over her nighty-clad body, before rising once more to her face. One eyebrow rising slightly as his lip twitched. "Well, maybe girl isn't entirely fair..."

Bulma's stomach did a nose dive flip combo as she watched his face, trying to summon up some appropriate irritation. Her frown deepened. Sliding her arms around herself she stammered. "Why you..."

"Just saved your life. But please, don't mention it. The pleasure was all mine." Vegeta said as his mouth pulled into a full on smirk. He crossed his own arms over his chest and continued his roaming stare.

"Ooooh!" Bulma raised her voice in protest. She wanted to scream at him for his insolence and his lecherous looks, but... he HAD just saved her, like he said. She huffed in agitation and dropped her fists to her side. A man like him would only be encouraged by her feminine protests. "Right, well, thanks for the lift. I think I'll just be headed to bed now." She spun on her heel ready to perform a world class storming off when she felt his hand slide around her shoulder.

"Bulma, wait!" Vegeta said, waiting for her to face him again before he continued. "I wasn't trying to upset you." With his words Bulma's eyebrows shot up. Coming from Vegeta that was quite the apology. His hand caressed down her arm gently until he was holding her just above the elbow. "I'd like you to stay."

Again Bulma struggled to find words through her shock. That last bit had almost not sounded like an order. And his tone was defiantly something she'd never though she'd hear from the Prince of the Planet Purging Apes.

"Why?"

"Well," he set his jaw, seeming to consider her question. "I never realized how appealing your skin looked enhanced by the moon's soft glow. And your eyes. They shimmer like sapphire waves in a sea of star lit galaxies."

At that point Bulma just stared, open mouthed at Vegeta knowing, somewhere along the line, she'd simply lost her mind. Or maybe she had fallen after all and hit her head. Slowly, he pulled her closer. His other hand moving up to lift her jaw and close her gaping mouth, fingers lingering near her throat.

"That," she started and then stopped. Dismay and confusion chased each other across her face before softening into appreciation. "That is the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me."

Moving in slow motion his palm molded to her cheek before sliding back to her hair and then his fingers delved greedily into her spiraled locks. Bulma's eyes were captured by the suddenly intense look of longing on the dark princes' face. Of their own accord, her hands slid to his body and she found herself marveling at the feel of his muscular chest under her fingers. An eternity later she let her eyes flutter shut as his lips finally met hers, firm yet sweet, hungry but polite. Her fingers flexed trying to draw is body closer as she melted against him.

'That's it,' She thought as she sighed and opened her lips, leting her curious tongue linger against his mouth, 'I did fall. I've died and gone to heaven.' All her inhibitions let go and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself into his tightening embrace. Passion flowed through her and the handsome prince as they kissed, that moment stretching into hours. Lips and tongue and teeth melding perfectly into a dance of desire and...

Bulma's eyes shot open. The sound of her alarm beeping brought her sharply out of her restful slumber and she gasped, trying to sit up. Sheets and blankets wrapped tightly around her limbs, their clinging made worse by the layer of sweat that seemed to coat her entire body. Struggling momentarily, she released herself from the tangled mess and sat on the edge of her bed. She rest her face in her hands a moment to catch her breath. 'That was one messed up dream,' she sighed as she stood and stumbled towards her bathroom. It was a good day to begin things with a nice, cold shower.

Later that day, after returning from a nice brunch with her boyfriend Yamcha, Bulma and their friends Puar and Oolong settled in for a nice glass of iced tea. Perched on the edge of the wall around the sunny deck, her thoughts wandered aimlessly, flirting now and then with the memory of her dream from that morning.

"Cat loves food, Yeah Yeah Yeah," Yamcha sang, pulling her out of her reverie. Puar had just finished her whole glass in one long draw from her straw.

"You goof! You're such a nut. Where did you come up with that?" She grinned at Yamcha remembering how much she loved his easy-going fun-loving nature.

"That was from an old cat food commercial. Puar hates it when I do that." Yamcha smirked as he leaned his chair back, drinking his own tea.

"I ate cat food once. OH Man! I thought it was tuna fish," Oolong stated dramatically, through Bulma barely registered his comment.

"I had a weird dream last night that Vegeta came back," She blurted. She'd never been one to keep much separation between what when through her mind and what came out her mouth. Yamcha nearly spit an ice cube out his nose and Puar and Oolong gave her strange looks.

"What? Vegeta?! You dreamt about him!?" Yamcha's distress was easily explained by the fact that Vegeta had been a key player in Yamcha's death.

Bulma shrugged. "You know, actually he was pretty nice to me in the dream. And a good kisser to boot." She smiled at the instant replay that flashed through her memory.

"WHAT!? YOU KISSED HIM!?" Yamcha yelled, his shock escalating.

"It was just a dream, Yamcha." She told him, stubbornly refusing to feel guilty.

Oolong chuckled. "You poor sap! You're jealous aren't you? Admit it!"

Desperately trying to hang on to his shredded honor Yamcha scoffed. "Right!" he said, trying to laugh the whole thing off.

Bulma's mom stepped onto the balcony, a tray of cupcakes in hand. Mrs. Briefs was seldom seen very far from one kind of pastry or another.

"Speaking of Vegeta, your dad said he should be running out of fuel soon," she set the tray down, giggling and picked up the tea pot ready to serve her daughter and her friends.

'Hm? Vegeta's running out of fuel' Bulma sighed and tuned to look up at the sky. She hoped he was going to be okay.

Noticing his girlfriends far off look, Yamcha sat up, his interest peaked. Why did Bulma care about that psychotic demon of a man anyway? He knew things had been a little strained between them lately, what with him focused on his baseball career, but he'd always assumed that things would always work out between them. Bulma was his girl, but seeing that look on her face he couldn't help but wonder just what was going on in that head of hers.

Lucky for Vegeta, he too had noticed his quickly depleting fuel. After cursing humans and their primitive technology he had set his course for Earth. Resigning himself to returning to that low-class mud ball, he decided he could use the excuse to check in and see if Kakarrot had returned. He dozed lightly in the living quarters waiting for the unnecessarily long time to pass. He had calculated it would take many hours longer then if he'd been traveling in one of the more advanced Purging Pods. He made a mental note to make sure his wasted time was taken out on those idiot humans that considered them scientists. It just wouldn't do to have their failings leading to more... inconveniences for him. Slowly he relaxed, as much as Vegeta ever managed to, and drifted to sleep.

Slowly the world revolved in shades of gray and green, twisting and swirling and slowly forming... Namek. Vegeta stood with his arm sticking out of Zarbon's stomach. Grinning in pleasure he squeezed and twisted the blue man's insides mercilessly. He relished the kill knowing that this was the part where he exacted his revenge on Frieza's right hand lackey.

Suddenly, there was movement to his left. His eyes jumped to it automatically. That bald-headed human stood there, his arms around one of the dragon balls, and behind him... behind him cowered that blue-haired earthling woman. Her hands covered her mouth as she sobbed. Fear radiated from her eyes almost tangibly. Powering up he prepared to finish Zarbon off. Only now he seemed distracted. His thrill from the kill muted by his preoccupation with the woman's hysterics. He wanted her to shut up. What was wrong with her? For that matter, what was wrong with him. He didn't care about that pathetic human or her whimpering. Why was he remembering this now? Why...?

"Goku? Where are you? We need you..." The woman whispered, her soft pleas echoing in his ears.

Scowling, he released his energy attack, but was surprised to find Zarbon was gone. Instead his blast leveled a small community of strange looking houses. Fire and smoke choked the air, the heat from the all the destruction causing it to shimmer around him. Figures moved, running chaotically, the inhabitants searching for cover, but through the smoke he couldn't identify what species or race.

'Doesn't matter anyway,' he frowned, readying another blast. 'Just another doomed planet on another purge.' He continued his gruesome work, leveling the place, indiscriminately destroying all he could see. Orders were orders, after all. He took little pleasure in this dishonorable slaughter. This was too easy. What he craved was a real fight, a challenge that would push him to his limits and beyond.

Over the hissing fumes and roar of the fires he could discern a rising tide of voices. The noise swelled, deafening. The sound of children crying and mothers screaming, of countless victims, rose up, seeming to blot out everything else. It smothered him. He put his hands to his ears and tried, unsuccessfully to block out the sound. He lashed out, yelling and swinging his fists attempting to fight off the faceless demons that threaten his very sanity. One voice rising above the others. Her voice. Only this time she was...

"No! Stop! Gohan!" she called out, stepping forward as she watched Vegeta pummel the crap out of her friend's son. Vegeta slammed his fist into Gohan's face over and over, for release, to escape the memory of the sound. Again, the woman drew his eye. Her outrage and panic crying out to him so much so that he hesitated. Shaking his head and closing his eyes he brought his arms down onto the boys back, shooting him into the earth like a meteor. Rage and confusion clouded his mind. Why? Why did he care. He was the prince of all Saiyans. A warrior among the mightiest race of warriors. He did not hesitate. He did not feel... guilt. Or remorse. These thing had been beaten out of him at a very early age. He barley even recognized them at all. Other men might let themselves be weakened by those emotions, but not him. Not Vegeta.

"What about you? Home-boy!" Her voice called out to him, penetrating his private hell. He cracked his eyes noticing that he was now leaned up against a tree, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Wha...? Home-boy? Wa!" He stuttered, not sure why she was addressing him so informally.

She smiled at him now, her early emotions washed away. "Hey, loosen up! You're going to need a place to crash too." Her eyes seemed to twinkle with a playful gleam.

"Bah," he scoffed. A moment ago he'd been ready to kill one of her closest friends and now she was offering him accommodations. Not that he needed them. Her apparently short-term memory filled him with disgust. These humans, so weak and trusting, their emotions running hot and cold faster then seemed rationally possible.

"Why don't you drop the arrogant tough guy act? Just relax! Let it all go! Take a vacation for goodness sake. Unwind a little and see what life has to offer you. You're actually kind of cute!"

Again Vegeta started in shock. "What?! I'm not... kind of cute...!" This presumptuous little tramp didn't know him or anything about him at all. He was not "cute". He was a killer. Viscious, cruel, and evil but never "cute".

Grinning at his loss of composure the woman turned her back on him. "All right, it's all settled. I'm going to go call my dad and have him pick all of us up."

Vegeta wanted to protest but an instant later, against his will, he was in the back of the large cargo carrier that was headed to the woman's home. He leaned against the back wall, as far from everyone else as possible, trying to melt into the shadows and become invisible. He was not sure why he had followed the others, why he had agreed to accompany them and accept the woman's hospitality. His eyes wandered over the nameks, all grouped excitedly together talking in hushed tones in a language he couldn't understand. Again, against his will, his eyes came to rest upon the woman, standing near the front talking with her group of humans.

Drawn by the weight of his gaze she glanced up, catching his eye. "Don't worry, Vegeta-kun, I'll make sure there's plenty of food for you! You must be like Goku, and eat an awful lot, I bet." She focused on some kind of hand held device. After a second she looked back up at him and her face shifted into a mischievous half-smile. "Just remember, no matter how sexy you might think I am, you can't do anything naughty." she winked.

Vegeta felt the air sucked from his lungs. 'Wh..what a vulgar woman, to say that to me, especially in front of everyone.' After glancing uncomfortably around at the others he forced his face into a comfortable scowl. "As if, woman." He snarled. He would never even notice such a weak, pathetic woman. Just a stupid human wench. She did not matter to him. Not even in the slightest. He couldn't care less about...

"Beginning planetary approach. Arrival to Earth estimated in one minute." Vegeta's eyes opened, his senses focusing instantly. Sitting up he squeezed the bridge of his nose and shook the memory of his dream from his head. Forgotten almost completely, the images melted away into nothing.

"Well, it's about time," he growled impatiently as he climbed the latter to the main control room. He strapped himself into the pilots seat. His heart was pounding and his last traces of his guilt and frustration coating his thoughts like an oil spill.

"Countdown to impact. 10, 9, 8..." Vegeta sat back and gripped the armrest, forcing his mind to calm, the last vestiges of his dream disappearing completely. On the screen the green and blue ball rushed at him. Earth. How he hated this place. Hopefully, he would only have to endure it for a short time. He could find Kakarrot and kill him and then the universe would be his for the taking. "3, 2,1... brace for impact."

Capsule Corps 3 plummeted with breakneck speed, slamming into the grounds outside the main Capsule Corps facility. Dust and smoke flew into the air creating a wave of debris that swallowed a good sized portion of the lawn. The ends of the cloud snaking around the nearest buildings reminded Bulma of the searching tentacles of an hungry octopus on the prowl.

Having run outside to stand at the edge of the dissipating cloud, Bunni Briefs looked on in shock. The tea pot in her hands forgotten, its contents poured out, spilling onto the grass. "Oh! I didn't know we had any quests dropping by. Goodness, I defiantly need to put on another pot of tea."

Yamcha and Puar rushed to her side, Puar hiding behind Yamcha as the air cleared revealing the half-buried spacecraft under several feet of buckled earth. With a hiss of hydraulics the ramp began lowering, the inside of the spacecraft appeared like a dark, yawning maw. Vegeta moved with a feline grace as he walked out, making his way down the now stationary plank of metal. Unnoticed by her friends, Bulma slowed her pace, coming to rest on the far side of her mother.

"Vegeta! What do you want!" Yamcha growled, his fists shaking with rage at the surprising return of the Saiyan warrior.

Bulma watched as her mother hopelessly tried to get a handle on the situation. Bunni Briefs was never one to deal well with tension."Oh My! Maybe you prefer some coffee?" Bulma shook her head at her mothers attempts to diffuse the situation.

"I was hoping that Kakarrot might have finally returned," Vegeta said, his disappointment evident. His mental scan had revealed no high power levels.

"Hm? What? Now way! You never found him in space?" Yamcha's expression mellowed slightly, leaning more towards puzzlement then defensive anger.

Never missing a chance to show off, the prince leaped high into the air landed a few feet from Yamcha's towering human form."Don't remind me. I'm angry enough to hurt somebody, and pounding you might just be the therapy I need." The idea of pummeling the scarred idiot pleased him even more then he'd previously thought possible. With a sudden flash of deja vu his eyes were drawn to his left as the Earth woman Bulma stepped up and placed her body between him and the low-level weakling.

"Uh, guys? P.U.! What's that smell?" She grimaced as she eyed Vegeta. "Oh, it's you." Her finger was suddenly pressed delicately against his breastplate. "When was the last time you bathed there, bud? You need a bath." Her words had a certain finality that few ever mastered. "Please, this way."

Yamcha's body twitched in utter surprise watching Vegeta quietly stare, his eyes following Bulma as she started walking away.

Noticing the lack on anyone behind her, Bulma paused and turned her head to glare out the corner of her eye. "Well, what? Do you want me to roll out the red carpet?" she said in her most facetious tone.

"Wha...?" Vegeta felt a familiar surprise that this apparently indefensible weakling would dare speak to him with such familiarity and disrespect. Didn't she know who he was? Growling, he let his fingers curl into a fist. Then, without warning, his anger slipped from him. She had a point, after all. He did desire to rid his body of it's accumulated filth. With a small grunt he decided to follow, hands on hips and nose in the air.

Staring on in disbelief, Yamcha watched as his fearless girlfriend handled the untamable Saiyan like a pro. "Unreal!" he whispered knowing he wouldn't believe it possible if he hadn't witnessed it with his own eyes.

"I hope she knows what she's doing," Puar squeaked. Yamcha only nodded to his furry friend.

Dusting her hands off, Bulma watched Vegeta's dirty uniform sink into the suds of her high-powered washer. While holding her nose and trying not to grimace she closed the heavy lid and stepped back. She pulled a set of clean clothes out from under her arm and placed them on the counter.

"Hey, You! I left you some fresh clothes." She didn't get the resounding gratitude she felt she was due. "Hello! You alive in there?" Through the steam she could make out a vague outline through the shower's glass.

"I heard you! You can leave now!" came the barked reply.

The unabashed disrespect tweaked Bulma's temper. "Why yes, Master. Your wish is my command!" With a screech worth of any harpy, she stomped from the foggy bathroom leaving Vegeta to ponder the mystery that is woman and the lightning quick mood swings that seemed so common for the human species in particular.

Out on the balcony Bulma joined Yamcha and Krillin who had just arrived. He'd just finished explaining that he'd sensed a high power level and flown over thinking it might be Goku finally returning. Seeing his friend's apparent frustration he shook his head knowingly. "Yeah that Vegeta is nothing but trouble. So unpredictable. It's so hard to tell what his motives are."

"I think he just wants to find Goku. Poor guy, he's obsessed." If Yamcha had noticed then it had to be true.

"He's used to getting what he wants, that's all. He's like a spoiled little kid," Bulma said, not sure why she was defending Vegeta at all.

"Man, sounds like you," teased Yamcha. Bulma could only agree. It takes one to know one after all. She figured being a prince and all would make it almost impossible for him not to be somewhat spoiled. From the bathroom came a call that only confirmed her thoughts.

"Hello! Servant Woman! Bring me a drying cloth at once! Woman, can you hear me?"

Not one to be out done in the bossy department Bulma whirled on her heels. Hands on her hips, she steeled her resolution to not let him take advantage of her. Prince or no, she was still Bulma Briefs, world-class genius and billionaire heiress. "I hear you, but my name is Bulma and I am not your servant. So say please."

Growling, Vegeta refused to submit. "Forget about the stupid drying cloth then."

"Suit yourself. Drip dry, you jerk!" If he refused to be nice then he could forget her showing him any kind of...

"What in the..." she heard the prince mutter to himself. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"Is what a joke?" she asked, genuinely confused.

"These garments that you left. Are they for a man or a woman? They're pink!" Vegeta's voice hid none of his exasperation.

"Oh come on!" Bulma laughed knowing the expression on his face must be priceless. "That's the style here." Which was true, to a certain extent. She could have picked a more manly style for the prince's clothes, but the opportunity of using him as her own personal Vegeta-doll had been too tempting to pass up. For some reason she just loved giving him a hard time. There's nothing like being a serious stick-up-your-butt type that screams "Screw with me!" If he didn't like it then he could just go naked.

"Gah! Men in Pink!? How bizarre!" Vegeta muttered.

Bulma couldn't help but wink to her friends, letting them in on her little joke. Yamcha, Puar and Krillin then bust into laughter.

Moments later the door to the bathroom open revealing Vegeta in his colorful ensemble. It was everything that Bulma could do to keep from doubling over with laughter.

"This is ridiculous! I'm a warrior! Not a...a... a variety of flower!"

Bulma's suspicion proved true. His expression was worth all the capsule technology in all the world. Shaking his fist, a dangerous snarl ripped itself from Vegeta's throat. Bulma just looked him up and down with appreciation. "Well, you smell good." The four natives continued enjoying the sight, their sides starting to split painfully.

"Stop that! Stop that or I'll blast you all!" The Saiyan roared. Noone had ever shared to laugh at his expense. Vegeta found the feeling more then infuriating. His words demanded an appropriate response. The earthlings stopped laughing.

"Loosen up. Fighting's no fun. Just relax." Bulma had never seen someone less able to take a joke. It was sad. How joyless she thought his life must have been. She felt a moment of pity and it moved her, inspiring her next words. "If you want to find Goku just stay here. He'll come. I've know Goku since he was 14 years old. Trust me. He'll be back. I just know it."

She knew he wouldn't refuse. He hadn't before and she knew he wouldn't now, pink and yellow clothing aside. He needed her. Even if he didn't acknowledge it, even to himself. It occurred to her that his life before could had been one of pain and suffering. She hated to think of anyone living that way, their personality being shaped by nothing but negative thoughts and emotions. Bulma considered herself a good person. Vain, conceited, and spoiled, yes, but ultimately she cared about others. She cared that the world held more good then bad. She wanted everyone around her to just as blessed and happy as she was.

And it was then, right there, in that moment that she vowed to show him that life could be different then he knew. On some level Bulma knew it was madness to think of the Saiyan Prince as some kind of pet project, but being who she was, she couldn't help it. She'd seen the good in him. When he'd told them what to do to wish Krillin and Goku back Bulma had seen a previously hidden side to Vegeta. One that meant, to her at least, he was not without hope. The way she figured, he'd been forced by Frieza to be so horrible before. Now that Frieza was dead, she thought it was about time he let go of all that hate and misery and became what he should have, could have been all along. Maybe not a nice guy, but a decent person. She just knew it was possible with her help. She'd see to it that he saw what it was like to feel joy. Even if it killed her.

Vegeta, on the other hand was struggling with this insane woman's offer of hospitality. He did indeed wish to find Kakarrot, but only to destroy him and take his place as the strongest and best warrior in all the universe. How could she possible want to assist him with that task. He knew that the inhabitants of this planet had depended on Kakarrot to save them in the past. Part of him was disgusted that anyone would put so much faith in another, letting someone else fight their battles for them. He just couldn't understand it. He would rather die with dignity then let anyone else take on his fight.

Though another part of him marveled at that trust, wondering what it must feel like to have someone, anyone, feel anything but fear and disgust for him. He shook that thought off as soon as he felt it forming. He couldn't allow such weakness to take root. There was nothing but power and strength, survival of the fittest. If you couldn't destroy everyone else then you would be destroyed. For now, beating Kakarrot was all that mattered and if it meant staying with this irritating creature and suffering the presence of these weaklings then so be it. For the time being he would let them help him, and then when the time came... Well then it would be nothing for him return their kindness by destroying them all.

Yes, as far as plans went he thought that was a pretty good one. A Prince must learn to be patient when the situation demanded it. He would wait and train, biding his time until he could arise and claim his destiny.


	2. The Physics of Kung Fu

A/N: Lemon Warning! Nothing toooooo terribly explicit, but you have been warned.

Dislaimer: It ain't mine. Bah Humbug.

Chapter 2:

The Physics of Kung Fu

The next day Bulma awoke slowly, one of those deliciously peaceful mornings when all was right and good. Snuggling closer into the solid, warm chest that cradled her body she inhaled the unmistakable smells of man and sex. Softly, she felt a strong hand brush the hair from her face, relishing the safeness and comfort that she felt in that one moment.

"Good morning, baby." the whispered words brushed her skin, sending a tingle of pleasure towards her core. She smiled and let her eyes drift open.

"Good morning, Yamcha," she said, feeling the moment slipping away with each passing second. She desperately wanted to stay in that moment, to hang on to it with all her might. She pressed her hand against her boyfriend's wide chest and rose up on one elbow to help her lips reach his. Slowly she felt her need to hang on to that pleasant, safe feeling increase, and with it the intensity of her kiss.

It was only a matter of seconds before Yamcha pulled away. "Wow, babe, what's gotten into you?" His breathless question was completely ignored as she pressed him back onto the bed and continued to ravage his mouth. She enjoyed the feeling of wet lips pressed together, of skin sliding along skin. Her hand worked itself into a slow pattern on his chest, caressing the area lateral to his nipple. Wanting something real and solid, she wished with all her might that Yamcha would put her arms around her and hold her. Just hold her and kiss her all morning...

"Oh, I get it..." Yamcha said, pushing her back slightly. "It's more about what you want getting into you, right?" He pushed her gently onto her back and kissed his way down her neck to her breasts before taking her right nipple into his mouth.

And just like that the moment was over. Bulma sighed and laid her head back onto her pillow, closing her eyes. But not in pleasure. In frustration. Not that what Yamcha was doing didn't feel good. It did. And it had felt good last night. And last week when he'd stayed the night. And the time before that... Always the same. After kissing for 30 seconds he'd move to her breasts. Sucking one and then the other. Sure enough his lips rose and moved to her other side.

And then, after doing that for a minute he's put a condom on and go to town on her. Same as always, just like clockwork. Kissing and then breasts and then missionary position intercourse. Sure, sometimes he'd let her suck on his nipples. And he always loved it when she would go down on him but he'd never once returned the favor. And he always just blew her off when she'd suggest new positions. Even on her birthday when she'd wanted some girl on top action. She'd gotten to do that for about 10 seconds before he's rolled her over and gone back to the usual.

Part of her loved Yamcha and he was good at what he did. It was just... not a lot. She wanted more of a variety, to try new things, but it was hard to bring it up and talk about it. When they'd first started dating, and she'd wanted to make love he'd been so self-conscious. It had taken her a long time to get him to do anything and now it seemed like he'd finally gained some confidence in bed. Only when she'd try to bring up trying anything different he'd always get this look on his face. Like he wasn't good enough because she wanted something else. Which wasn't the case, but... he just couldn't see. Lately she'd just stopped trying.

Bulma told herself that things were fine. She would just enjoy what then did together and let it be, but somehow, she wasn't sure if that would always be true. Even now, as he was reaching over to her bedside table to retrieve a condom she couldn't help but just wish he'd get it over with so she could get up and shower. That thought made her feel incredibly guilty. After all, she'd started it, right?

"Ready?" Yamcha asked, having slid on the prophylactic into place he poised himself over her, spreading her legs.

Bulma forced a smile onto her face and nodded. She closed her eyes, trying to savor the feeling of his member sliding inside her. He was pretty big, almost 8 inches in length, and usually managed to get her off by that fact alone. Rub the right places enough and things were bound to happen. Like clockwork. Wrapping her arms around his neck she clung to him for dear life. Maybe if she tried harder, maybe if she could feel more for him, connect deeper to him then the sex wouldn't be such a big deal. Her legs wrapped around him as she squeezed, pulling him as close as possible. As if, if she believed hard enough, a physical depth would translate into an emotional depth.

Pressing flesh to flesh she did her best, ridding the waves of his thrusts, trying to meld their bodies into one by sheer will. And yet... nothing.

Moaning loudly Yamcha arched his back, thrusting one last time as he came. The slickness of his sweating skin pulled him from her arms. She just couldn't hang on. Having finished, he collapsed onto her, his weight pressing her into her mattress. Only instead of feeling closeness, she merely felt smothered. Inside some part of her was breaking.

Slowly, Yamcha rolled over, pulling away from her all at once and leaving her to feel cold and alone. "Wow, Bulma that was amazing! Kami! Didn't you think that was good!?" he laughed as he laid next to her.

"Sure," she said, her smile sad. She just couldn't bear to tell him the truth. It would probably destroy him. "It was great." she pulled the sheet up around her body and lay there, still and quiet.

After a moments contemplation, while Yamcha caught his breath, she wondered just how long she could pull off this ruse before it killed their relationship completely. She knew she wanted more, needed more. Sometimes she felt like she was drowning in a deep well of untapped passion. Maybe she had just read too many romance novels growing up, but she knew that things could be so much more then this in bed. She just knew there were a million possibilities and she wanted to try them all.

It would be one thing if every other aspect of their relationship was perfect, but Bulma knew she would just be lying to herself if she thought that was true. Obviously, they had trouble communicating and for the most part trust was merely touch and go. She just wasn't sure that he was going to be the man to make her happy forever more. Somewhere along the line her relationship with him had become... convenient, and that was about it.

She loved Yamcha, but she wasn't convinced she was in love with him. That being the case she was starting to think it might be better for both of them if they just went back to being friends. She wasn't getting any younger, after all.

"Yamcha," she said, turning on her side to face him. "I was just thinking...."

"Yeah?" he asked, grinning like an idiot and crossing his arms behind his head.

"Well, I..." She needed to say this just right. "Don't you ever think that maybe..."

The sound of a small explosion sounded somewhere on the compound, followed by the rushing sound of someone powering up. Bulma and Yamcha both sat up, startled.

"Huh?" Yamcha stopped, focusing quickly. "That must be Vegeta. He must be doing some training this morning. Huh. That guy is unbelievable. Does he ever give it up?" He wondered aloud. Then, swiftly he flipped the covers back, climbed out of bed and began looking for his clothes. "I better go see what he's up to? I don't want to be outdone by that guy. If he's gonna workout this early then I better get a crack on it, too." As soon as he was dressed he leaned over and kissed the frowning Bulma.

"I'll see you later, okay? We'll do dinner." And then he slipped from the room without waiting for a reply. Bulma suddenly found herself alone. She grunted quietly. Again with the communication issues...

"Well, I guess I better get up too. I don't want those two getting at each other's throats too early." Standing and walking to her bathroom she tried to not feel abandoned. Boys would be boys, after all.

Somehow they survived the day without anyone breaking anyone else's neck, although that might have been partly due to the fact that Vegeta took off as soon as he saw Yamcha approaching. It didn't seem the Prince was a play-nice-with-others kind of guy. For dinner that evening Bulma had decided to invite Puar and Oolong over for barbeque. Until her issues were settled with Yamcha, she didn't really want to spend too much time alone with him. She even managed to convince Vegeta to join them after he'd returned from where ever he'd been all day. Running the grill gave Bulma something to distract her and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. She had even managed to shake that feeling of melancholy that had started sinking in that morning. Things were going to be okay.

"Oh, man Bulma this is great! I'm pigging out here." Oolong said, scarfing down a plate of warning Vegeta was suddenly standing, his fist slamming harshly into the table and knocking over his drink. "So, he failed after all. Frieza's still alive and he's coming!" Everyone gasped, surprised by his words as well as startled by his outburst.

"Wait, how do you know? Maybe it could be somebody else. Come on!" Yamcha looked as though he knew what Vegeta was talking about.

"I know! I make it my business to know. Unlike you," snarled Vegeta.

Not one to be talked down to, Yamcha shot out of his chair sending it toppling backwards. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Bulma wondered if he even considered the fact that Vegeta could probably fry them all with just a nasty look. "Hey, Vegeta, would you like a little more barbeque sauce on your spare ribs?" It just wouldn't do to let the two of them go at it. Especially if what Vegeta said was true. If Frieza was really on his way...

"Sure. Why not." Vegeta said, settling down. Inside he was surprised that the woman could act so calmly, saying just the right thing to get him to chill. He might as well finish his dinner. They had a little time before Frieza arrived, and then they were probably all toast anyway.

"Well my money's on you guys. We can leave if you wanna fight him here." The pig said, still munching away.

Vegeta thought it was ridiculous how much these stupid earthlings didn't understand about the real powers of the universe. From what he was sensing all ready Frieza would be even stronger then before. In which case it was going to take a miracle.

A miracle is what they got. In the form of the amazingly strong Super Saiyan from the future. The 17 year old boy quickly dispatched Frieza and his men, as well as Frieza's father, King Cold. And he also passed on a warning about the future that could quite possible make the difference between life and death from all of them in the next 3 years. Especially Goku whose upcoming heart virus would be decidedly less fatal.

In the case of Vegeta, he could foresee only a minor detour from his original course. Vegeta had know he might need some extra training in order to increase his power level enough to surpass the infuriating 3rd class ape. Now that Kakarrot had return and the strange boy had delivered his warning, he would simply intensify his efforts 10 fold, using the time between now and the androids arrival to make himself unstoppable. Then, after he tested his strength out destroying the robotic tin cans, he would continue with the original plan and destroy Kakarrot as well. Some days his interminable genius surprised even himself.

To make the deal even sweeter he'd demanded that the good Dr. Briefs build him his own gravity simulator and had been obeyed with almost zero hesitation. Here at the Capsule Corps compound he had unlimited resources. With the threat of the androids motivating them all to assist him completely he need only continue using that to his advantage and he could not fail. In a measly three years time he would ascend to the very top ranks of the universe and nothing would stop him.

There was only one slight catch. He must figure out how to ascend and become an all powerful Super Saiyan. Without doing so he would never be able to surpass Kakarrot. As if his frustration in this matter weren't already maxed, he now had the boy from the future taunting him as well. His rage swelled with the thought. It had to be some kind of trick. There was no way that boy could be a Super Saiyan. It was impossible. It seemed the universe was laughing at him.

"Initiating Gravity simulation. 300 times Planet's normal Gravity. Initiating Defense Program. Level 5. Assuming Defense Formation." The computer announced, the training bots shifting above him, preparing for his attack.

Vegeta raised his ki, feeling the increasing gravity and making it nearly impossible for him to even remain on his feet. It was all he could do to keep standing, but that wasn't good enough. Reaching deep within himself he pushed harder. His rage and his determination driving him forward, despite the impossible seeming odds. With everything he possessed he launched an attack. Calculating the angles and possibilities he prepared to dodge the bots counterattack. He barely managing to get out of the way in time and then he turned, readying his next move.

"Assuming Defense Formation Level Maximum."

The bots seemed to circle him menacingly now. The weight of the gravity was bearing down on him, making him feel as though his body was going to give out at any second. He was outraged by his own weakness as he struggled to keep his feet. Vegeta reached even deeper. With a harrowing scream he gave it everything he had, unleashing his energy on the defense ready bots. It proved too much for the mechanical spheres and soon they buckled under the intensity of it all.

Outside Yamcha and Puar watched in amazement through on of the small circular windows. "Talk about your radical training programs," Yamcha said, stepping away from the shuddering sphere. Vegeta's intensity amazed him, but surely it couldn't be that difficult. Shrugging his shoulders and stalking off, Yamcha's mind turned, a plan sprouting.

Later that evening, after all the lights had gone out around the compound, a shadowy figure crept quietly from hiding place to hiding place, making its way towards the now empty Gravity Simulator. Once inside, Yamcha approached the control console cautiously. 'Whatever Vegeta can take. I can take, too. 300 times gravity shouldn't be that tough. I'm sure I can take it.' He thought, though his fingers hesitated above the main panel. Seconds later he steeled his resolve and pressed the on switch.

"Initiating Gravity simulation. 300 times gravity." And suddenly Yamcha felt as though his head weighed about as much as a bus. His insides suddenly felt a pressing need to meet his toes, and even his sudden panic seemed to weigh down on him, pulling him to his knees.

'Oh NO! What have I done? Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.' He raised his energy trying to create a protective barrier against the invisible downward force. A cry of pain ripped from his throat as he realized the futility. 'I'll be turned into a pancake if I don't turn this thing off.' His survival instinct kicked in and he pushed with everything he had, his hand slowly moving up the side of the console towards the off button. His arm felt like a house, his vision was starting to go black and the air felt like it was all being forced from his lungs. 'Come on... just a little farther.' The last few centimeters were the hardest, but after an eternity of struggle his finger tips touched it and... depressed it.

"Simulation terminated. Normal Gravity restored." His body gave out the second the force lifted. Exhaustion overtook him complexly and he lay motionless, collapsed against the cool metal floor. His last thought before he passed out was of gratitude to King Kai and the training he'd received there. Without it he'd have been mashed Yamcha for sure.

Yamcha managed to regain consciousness and drag himself wearily from the Simulator before anyone woke. His entire body felt bruised and strained. He managed to find one of the guest rooms and laid down before falling into a deep and healing sleep just as everyone else was rising from their beds to begin their day.

As was becoming routine, Bulma's mother started her morning by fixing a sizable breakfast for the household, 90 percent of which would be consumed by one metabolically enhanced alien guest. Vegeta would finish quickly and then retire to the Simulator for the bulk of the day. Dr. Briefs would go to his lab to work on any repairs that Vegeta required of him and then, if there was any time left in the day, he would tinker with one project or another that he had lying around. Mrs. Briefs would see to the cooking and the household upkeep, including all of the shopping and gardening. And Bulma, well, she was at a loss. She usually spent a good portion of her day with Yamcha, although lately, that was less and less true. She helped her father in the lab, occasionally, and her mother with the house stuff, but she found herself feeling less and less useful.

Yamcha spent a couple of days recuperating from his fight with 300 G's and then returned to trying to train around the house. Bulma hadn't seen a lot of him over the last few days, and found there was a small relief in that, even through the loneliness.

"Everyone else is working so hard to get ready for those androids while I'm sitting around the house doing nothing. I wish there was something I could do," she muttered one morning as she sat flipping through some mind numbing magazine. Upon realization that she had no idea what had been on the last 20 pages or so she closed it and set it on the coffee table.

Her mother walked in, just then, a tray in her arms. "Bulma, I stopped by the bakery and guess what I got for us. Nice, huh? Don't these just look scrumptious?" she exclaimed, setting the train on the coffee table, next to Bulma's discarded magazine.

Bulma muttered an agreement and stared absently towards the windows.

"Now, which one do you want?" Her mother asked, cheerily.

"They're all yours mom, I"m not very hungry." Bulma's problem was more pressing then her appetite. There had to be something she could do to help, and until she figured out what that would be, every other thing seemed less important.

"What? But Bulma what's wrong with you? Are you feeling lonely because all the boys are spending all their time training and not spending time with you? That's it, isn't it dear?" For years Bulma had been aware of her mother's supernatural talent to make every problem about men, or her lack thereof. The really irritating part was that this time she was hitting a little too close to home.

"Oh, puh-leez! I'm just not very hungry!" Defensive, Bulma considered the possibility that maybe she did depend of her friends for entertainment. Or at least purpose in life. For the last couple years her life had revolved around solving problems related to either hostile invasions or trips to distant planets. It was frustrating now that she was reduced to being an alien's concierge. And speaking of their interplanetary guest...

"I'm starting to think Vegeta is a few cards short of a full deck. It wasn't enough to have to simulation create 300 times gravity him but now he's demanding that I make some more equipment for him to train with, and all he's going to do is break it." Her father said, entering with a yawn. Bulma knew her father had already been devoting some late nights and early mornings to helping Vegeta maximize his training.

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me at all," she sighed, thinking maybe she should just help her father out some more in the lab. That thought was somewhat irritating.

"I think it's great he works so hard." Bunni seemed to have stars in her eyes where Saiyan men in general were concerned.

"Oh sure he's training hard, but don't you think he's over doing it a bit?" Dr. Briefs, never one for much physical type activity, countered.

"Oh no, I think it's very admirable. In my day a man who showed that much dedication to anything was definitely husband material. A girl would have to be crazy to let him get away, I tell you." Bulma wondered if that last part was directed at her. "Oh, my what am I saying, I'm a married woman!" Bunni blushed.

Bulma couldn't believe her mother was seriously thinking about Vegeta in such a... casual way. Then again this was her mother. Her thoughts turning to the grumpy Prince, she suddenly realized she's forgotten all about her plan to help him chill out and get the most out of life. With everything that had happened with Frieza, and then the threat from the future she'd sort of forgotten...

With Vegeta more dedicated to his training then ever Bulma had hardly even seen him over the last few weeks. Usually, he only showed his face when he was stuffing it with food, or when he was demanding repairs or upgrades. 'Selfish jerk,' she thought sourly. She'd know it wouldn't be easy to get the Prince of all Ass holes to relax and lighten up. But now... it might be impossible. She felt a sudden excitement, one that had been missing lately. It would certainly be a challenge. It was definitely something to think about, anyway.

"Hey, dad, after lunch I'll help you with that equipment." She felt better already.

For the next few days Bulma and her dad unleashed a creative frenzy coming up with all kinds of cool things to help Vegeta train harder. Designing new materials to withstand a higher intensity ki attack, faster, more organized training formations for the bots. They spent almost 3 days going over martial arts theory and mathematics, analyzing the physics of fighting and watching lots and lots of Kung Fu and Bruce Lee movies. Their research even required them to study Vegeta himself.

It took some convincing, but they finally got him to step down into the lab for some tests. They'd had to promise that they're purpose was to help him increase his Gravity Simulation training efficiency by at least 42 percent. Even then he'd bitched at them the entire time.

"Just hold still, Vegeta. You keep moving and the electron energy scanner is going to take forever." Bulma scolded, watching as Vegeta scowled and re-crossed his arms for the umpteenth time.

"If you ask me, I'd say it has already taken up way too much of my time. I can't afford to waste any of my valuable time posing for your stupid machines."

"You can't afford not to," Bulma reminded him, yet again. "Or do you want to continue seeing only a small fraction of the results that you could be getting if you'd just hold still!" Her irritation was partly genuine, partly because she was starting to understand that in order to communicate with Vegeta effectively you couldn't put up with any of his crap. He seemed only to respond to strength and reasoning. And it was just his disagreeable nature that made it impossible for him to let this go smoothly.

"My training techniques are perfectly fine! They have been perfected and handed down by generation after generation of the most powerful Saiyan warriors."

"Just how many of those Saiyan warriors used advanced gravity simulation technology to enhance themselves?" she asked. Reigning in her attitude a smidgen, she gave him a somewhat softer expression. "Look, Vegeta, we're not trying to insult your heritage or anything. It's just that you're on a different playing field now and the rules have changed. Now hold still and let us help you."

Vegeta scowled still and uncrossed his arms. "I've agreed to allow you to do your tests, but don't think for a second, Woman, that I need your help."

Coming to that uncomfortable agreement, he finally remained still long enough for the scan to finish. "Okay, now, great." Bulma smiled coming around from behind the machines control panel. "That wasn't so hard, now, was it?" Her grin widened when Vegeta's scowl deepened and he muttered something she was sure was uncomplimentary under his breath.

Turning towards the door, Vegeta made as if to leave, but Bulma stepped in front of him and put and hand up to stop him. "Now hold on, Vegeta. That's just the first part of the tests. Next we're going to have to measure your muscular mass index." She held up her mass indexing calipers and gave him a sugar sweet smile.

"And just how much long is that going to take?" Vegeta's mood seemed to darken even more. Just when you didn't think the Saiyan Prince could get any more surly...

"Not long." She said with an patronizing sigh. "Now, just hold out your arms."

Obeying reluctantly, Vegeta decided just how long he was going to let himself be submitted to this prodding female and her "tests". She had two more minutes.

Using her strange device the blue-haired-pain-in-his-ass groped and felt his upper arms and shoulders, followed by his forearms. Pinching his muscles between two metallic pincers he tried not to flinch when she moved to his chest, eyeing it suspiciously.

"This might be easier if you removed your armor for a minute." She tried to phase her request as politely as possible, knowing that anything he interpreted as an order would be turned down just spite her.

"Fine," he grumbled, removing his chest plate. "Just hurry up..." he growled threateningly. One minute twenty seconds and counting...

Bulma nodded absently as she set to work measuring his pectorals and abs. It was lucky that he was wearing his skin tight uniform today. Leaving that on kept her from having to deal with the prince's naked chest. Not that she minded the skin it just... It was Vegeta. The thought of him baring all was just... disconcerting. She didn't stop to analyze why.

Next came his hip and thigh muscles. She almost couldn't get the prongs around his quads. 'Wow,' she thought, 'What strong thighs, you have, Vegeta.' She shook her head and focused on moving down to his calves. 'The better to stomp me flat with,' she thought grimly.

Vegeta was busy focusing on the clock on the far wall. He ignored the woman's prodding and counted down the seconds, willing himself to not notice her close proximity. Fourty-two seconds...

"Okay Vegeta, we're finished," Bulma stood and reached for a clip board to jot down her findings.

"It's about time," he grumbled, putting his armor back on. Then, without so much as a thank you, he took his leave. Just outside the door he passed the scarred Earthling standing in the hallway. Pointedly ignoring him, he headed back outside to continue his work.

Yamcha watched the Prince strut by, nose in the air and then stepped into the lab. Bulma looked up from her work and gave him a smile. "Hey, Yamcha. Long time no see. What's up?"

Yamcha walked over. "Hey, Bulma, are you sure it's such a good idea to be helping Vegeta so much? I mean, he is still a cold-blooded killer and all. And he certainly doesn't need any help getting stronger. He's already too dangerous for my liking."

Bulma laughed as she started imputing her data into the computer. "Oh, Yamcha. You worry too much. It's just Vegeta, after all. Goku could still take him out in a heart-beat if he needed to. Besides, now that Vegeta isn't working for Frieza anymore, maybe he'll chill out a little. He can't be all that evil, right? I mean... even Goku said that Vegeta has to have some good in his heart. I think he just needs a chance. You should try being nicer to him."

"Nicer? To Vegeta?" Yamcha couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Yeah right, that'll be the day."

"Oh, come on. If I recall correctly, you were once a dreaded outlaw bandit yourself. You of all people should be slower to judge someone by their past."

Yamcha stammered at that point, unable to respond. She was actually comparing his past to that murdering bastard! There was no way he even came close to being that evil. Even at his worst he'd never been a murder. Hell, Vegeta had even been behind his very own death. How could she forget that so easily?

"Look, I'm really busy here. I need to get this in the database and start running some comparisons and projections and stuff. Maybe we could talk later or whatever?" Bulma said, pushing past him and walking to another computer to continue her work. She barely even seemed to acknowledge him at all, she was so absorbed with helping Vegeta.

"Sure, right," Yamcha said, making every effort to hide his hurt feelings. "I guess I better get back to training anyway." He turned and left, feeling her rejection in every cell of his body. It seemed to him like helping Vegeta was suddenly so much more important then him.

On the other hand, Bulma usually had a way of tuning out everything else when she was working on some sort of invention or research project. That's probably all this was, he told himself. Just Bulma being Bulma. Sure, that was all this was. He was positive.

After a few days of running their colleted data through a serious of information matrixes Bulma and her dad had come up with several improvements for the Gravity Simulator. Production began immediately. 35 Million zeni and 4 days later they presented Vegeta with the new and improved GS 2.0.

"So, Vegeta, what do you think?" Bulma asked. She'd just finished showing him the basic controls and going over some of the new modifications.

"I hope, for your sake, that these so-called "improvements" are worth the time you wasted with all your tests." The cold-ness in his tone belied the internal excitement he felt. It was always a thrill to recognize the possibility of newer, better heights in training, but there was no way he was going to give this human something to hold over his head later.

"I suppose it would be too much to ask for a Thank You," Bulma said, her voice had a distinctly irritated flavor. "Well, you better be more careful with this stuff. It wasn't easy or cheap and if you think that you're going to continue to use my father as your own personal handy man, you can just forget it. Cause I'm telling you right now, that stops now."

Vegeta smirked. "Well, if this is all as good as you say then you won't have to worry, will you. But don't think for a second I'm going to hold back. You will continue to be available to fix and create what ever I tell you to just because I say you will." Crossing his arms, his arms seemed to be daring Bulma to disagree.

"You think you're so high and mighty, but really, you're just a spoiled brat!" She was really losing her temper now. Her father had done nothing but give and serve His Royal Highness since they'd found out about the androids and he couldn't even give them an appreciative nod. "I don't care if you were raised with people whipping your ass with golden sheets of toilet paper, you just can't treat people this way. After everything my family has done for you, I'd think that you could at least try not being such a royal bastard about everything!" She finished with a stomp of her foot.

Vegeta laughed cruelly. "I think you're forgetting a couple of key points, Woman. First of all, you and your family offered me their hospitality on this pathetic little ball of space waste. Secondly, you aren't of much use if you aren't making sure I have food to eat and machines to help me train. There isn't any other reason for your existence. Thirdly, you need me to train so I can fight those androids for you, seeing as how you're too weak to take care of them yourself. And finally, and this is the most important thing you seem to keep forgetting, I am Vegeta. The Prince of all Saiyans. The Legendary Warrior of the greatest warrior race that ever lived. You should be honored by the very fact that I continually spare your life, in spite of your never ending screeching and hassling of my Royal personage." Vegeta had progressively moved closer, looking down his nose at her, though he was relatively her same height. "I think it is you who should be thanking me for letting you live, as well as taking on these androids on behalf of your pathetic simpering planet of weaklings."

"We don't need you," Bulma said, really steamed off now. "We have Goku. And he's a Super Saiyan whose way stronger then you any day. You're just the backup." The second the words left her lips she knew she'd gone too far. Her anger evaporated in a wash of fear.

"Well, if that's how you really feel, maybe I should just leave, and you can go ahead and take your chances?" Vegeta clenched his fist, exerting all of his will to keep from blasting her away right here and now.

Bulma mentally kicked herself for letting him get to her like that. It was just Vegeta's way to have to egg people on, always getting the last word. Taking a deep breath she forced most of the tension from her body she shook her head. "No, Vegeta, you're right. We do need you. We're going to need everything we've got." She locked eyes with him, his gaze staring her down. She withstood it, trying to tell him that she wanted peace between them with her own look.

"Very well then," he said, his voice filled with steal. "You may leave now."

"Why the nerve!" Bulma exclaimed, her eyes smoldering as she turned on her heel and left. Her heart just wasn't in it, though. She wondered exactly how close she had come death just moments before. The fact that she was still alive was actually a testament to the fact that Vegeta had changed at least a little. From what she'd seen from the Prince didn't take lightly to being insulted right to his face. Taking a deep breath she walked back inside, hoping with all she had that this really was a good sign.

Inside GS 2.0 Vegeta was trying for coldly indifferent, but was coming up short with intermittent, emotional numbness. He didn't care what that woman said, he didn't. She was just a know-nothing idiot with too high an opinion of herself. She didn't matter, what she thought didn't matter.

But the very idea that he should play backup to Kakarrot was.... infuriating!

He tried again to calm his emotions, reminding himself that his stay here would be relatively short. He would take what he needed from these people and then blast them all into oblivion. He powered up the simulation to 300 g's and then, feeling his rage seeping back in, kicked it up to 350. The added weight forced him to concentrate on not getting squashed. He cleared his mind and began his usual routine.

Push-ups. One-handed push-ups. Hand stands, one-finger hand stand lifts... The additional weight making even the most rudimentary tasks almost too much. After a while he noticed a new phenomenon. A tingling in his muscles that started in his arms and then legs and then moved to his chest and back. Puzzled momentarily, he thought back to what that idiot woman had been saying. Apparently in addition to some of the other modifications, they'd added some kind of sub-frequency bio-magnetic emitter that was supposed to stimulate his muscle growth. Impressive, though hardly worth all the fuss. After all, anyone who knew anything about fighting knew it wasn't the size of the muscle that mattered, but how you used it. Also, when it came to being truly powerful it had nothing to do with size, but with energy levels. Ki was what really mattered. Leave it to that vulgar, shallow woman to focus on muscle mass. He shook his head again, clearing her from his thoughts forcefully.

The only real goal here was to increase his ki level to the point that he could break the barrier and become a super saiyan. That was all that mattered. For the millionth time, images of Kakarrot filled his head. Kakarrot and that young purple-haired brat. What did they know that he didn't? Why couldn't he reach it?

Well, he wasn't about to go asking that defective half-wit for pointers. He could figure it out on his own, and he would. He would play back up to no one! Using his rage to fuel his attack he started after an invisible opponent. Punch, kick, throw. Head butt, punch, punch. Knee to the gut, he imagined his enemy buckling before him. Tossing them away he powered up readying for a finishing blast. The tingling in his arms increased as he channeled his ki into his open waiting fist, damn near distracting him. With a scream of rage he unleashed it, feeling the backwash of his power flood over him, the air seeming to vibrate, shaking the entire structure and him in it. And then, in a flash of bright light, everything went dark.


	3. Clash of the Titanic Egos

1Disclaimer: In my world there are Saiyans in chains and you can ride them like ponies... But this isn't my world. And I don't own DBZ. Or that quote.

Chapter 3

Clash of the Titian(ic ego)s

Bulma walked into the kitchen after leaving Vegeta to his self-inflicted torture, her thoughts a whirl of calico confusion. So many questions were plaguing her. Questions that revolved around the man she'd just walked away from. She just didn't understand his arrogance, his anger, his...

"Hey, Bulma!" a voice called suddenly from the kitchen table. She started, wrenched from her thoughts and gasp in surprise. Seeing only Yamcha, smiling up at her from where he sat, she took a deep breath.

"Gosh, Yamcha!" she placed a hand on her chest trying to force her heart to slow. "You scared the life out of me!"

"Sorry about that. You seemed pretty preoccupied," Yamcha said, a questioning lilt in his tone.

"Yeah, I... just have a lot on my mind. What's up?" she slid across from him wondering why he'd crawled out of the woodwork today to seek her out. She hadn't seen him at all since... since they'd spoken in the lab that day.

"Well, I just... I know you've been busy, and I know that we left things kind of off last time, but, I figured, now that you're done with your thing for Vegeta that... maybe... we could talk?" Bulma braced herself thinking that maybe this was going to be the conversation that she'd been dreading for weeks.

"Well, sure, Yamcha. What did you wanna talk about?" she tried to keep her tone as casual as possible.

"It's just that, ever since the whole..." He started, but was cut off by a rip roaring explosion from the back yard.

Bulma jumped to her feet her attention on high alert. "What the..." In seconds she was tearing out the back door and across the lawn. Her worst fears confirmed as she rounded a corner, coming upon the smoking wreckage of SG 2.0 "Vegeta!" She yelled, concern flushing her face.

"I knew this would happen. He's been trying to do the impossible." Yamcha exclaimed his eyes scanning the mess of metal and wire for signs of life.

"Where is he? Vegeta?" Seeing no one at all, she felt the edge of panic creeping in. She started clearing some of the smaller peices, pulling heavy blocks of debris out of her way. From beneath where she was searching a hand shot out of the rubble sending a scream ripping from her throat as Bulma tumbling back into Yamcha behind her "You Okay?" she asked impulsively as she watched Vegeta crawl out from under some larger pieces of Gravity Simulator.

He pulled himself to his feet, even though he was broken, bruised, and bleeding from several places. The Saiyan still managed to find enough energy for a disdainful tone. "Of course I am."

Bulma, sighed in relief and then was flooded with anger. "How dare you, you dweeb!? You almost wrecked my house! What are you trying to prove?" In that moment she wouldn't be surprised to find out he'd blow the thing up to spite her and ruin all her hard work.

Forcing himself to stand erect, Vegeta forced a laugh from his mangled chest. This, however, caused him excruciating pain, seeing as how he had at least three shattered ribs. His body failed him then and he fell, collapsing into a bloody pile.

"Wha..?" Bulma leapt forward. "Oh no! Vegeta, you're hurt!" She couldn't get over the shock of his damaged physique as she pulled him into a sitting position. She cradled his head gently in her arms.

"No, I don't need help..." Vegeta gasped. His pride barely keeping him conscious. " I've got training to do." He cringed, pain overwhelming his every sense even as he despised his own weakness.

Bulma knew she was dealing with a sizable ego, but this... this was insanity. "You've got to stop training for a while! Look at you! You're a complete wreck!" She waved a hand over his body as if seeing his injuries would bring him to his senses.

"But I feel fine... I'm a Saiyan...I can take a little pain. It means nothing to me, and I have to get stronger then Kakarrot." In his suffering he seemed beyond reason.

"Okay sure, we all know you're a tough guy, but you need to rest now." Bulma softened her tone, her hand moving to wipe some blood from his brow.

Yamcha was startled to see compassion enter into Bulma's expression. Watching her cling to Vegeta like that... it didn't make sense. He shouldn't matter so much to her. She seemed obsessed with helping Vegeta even though he'd done nothing but cause her problem after problem. She'd devoted so much of her time to him already and if that look on her face was any indicator... He struggled with the urge to yank her away.

"I take orders from no one!" Vegeta pulled away from Bulma, standing for half a second before he toppled forward, finally slipping into unconsciousness.

"Oh no! Vegeta!" She tried to lift him, but he was dead weight. "Yamcha, quick! Get some help, we have to get him medical help! Now!" she yelled at him desperately. Yamcha simply reacted, despite his emotions tying themselves in knots, he spun on his heal and took off into the house.

Using all her strength, she rolled Vegeta onto his back once again and tried to make him comfortable, checking on his most visible wounds. She applied pressure to some, but his blood flow seemed already to have slowed. She hoped that wasn't a bad sign. Looking around at what was once GS 2.0 she seemed to see it for the first time.

"This shouldn't have, couldn't have happened," she whispered. Her and her father had made sure this chamber was tougher and more durable then ever before, and yet, with in a matter of minutes Vegeta had completely blow it to hell. "What happened," she wondered softly. Something must have gone terribly wrong.

They'd managed to haul Vegeta into the Medical Center and get him stabilized. Seeing the bandages and oxygen mask that adorned the Prince's injured body was still deeply disturbing. He had always seemed so invincible. "Is he going to be all right, Daddy?" Bulma asked quietly.

"I hope so. The only thing he hasn't bruised is his eyebrows. If he stays in bed for a week or two he should be all right. He's dodged a bulled again. It's a miracle he survived the horrible accident. Those Saiyans are practically indestructible." Dr Briefs was ever hopeful and Bulma took some courage from that.

"Poor Vegeta..."Her mother sobbed. She held a soaking tissue to her face.

"Come on dear, lets let him rest." Putting his arm around his wife he lead her from the room, his voice comforting her as they left.

Bulma stayed behind for a moment longer. "Oh, you lunkhead," she tried to direct her distress into anger, but it didn't seem to be working. She might as well leave him in peace. He deserved all the quiet they could give him. She turned to leave.

"Kakarrot..." Vegeta's voice came out a raspy whisper of pain, causing Bulma to turn back and walk over to his side to hear him better. "I'll be stronger... Kakarrot... I'll beat you!"

Bulma stared, comprehension dawning on her face. "He's having a bad dream...." she whispered to herself. It seemed that even in his condition, having suffered a terrible accident he was still focused on only one thing. Beating Kakarrot and becoming the strongest. She had a hard time comprehending such single-minded dedication. As much as she'd devote herself to one project or invention for a time, she always remembered her family and loved ones, and the things that really mattered. Didn't she? She couldn't understand what it must be like to live with only one thought, one purpose. And what an empty purpose it was, too.

It seemed to her that Vegeta must be the single most loneliest, miserable person in the entire Universe.

He definitely needed someone to show him that there was so much more to life. She'd been trying to show him kindness and get him to lighten up, but this was even worse then she'd ever feared. He seemed completely void of things like trust and love. A deep sadness filled her. No one should have to feel that way. No wonder he was so unpleasant all the time. Well, she would show him. When he got better she would show him everything life had to offer.

She turned to go. In the meantime she would figure out what had happened to cause the explosion.

He was running. Forever running. The scenery around him swirled and changed, and still he ran. He had to reach his goal, he had to get there before anyone else. He had to!

In the distance he could see the outline of someone. Picking up his speed he ran faster. Approaching the figure he discovered it was none other then his worst enemy. The man he despised above all others.

"Kakarrot! I'm stronger then you!" He launched and attack, throwing his leg out with all his strength in a mighty kick. He felt nothing as he passed through his nemesis' image. Wheeling around in attack stance again he noticed that the boy that had defeated Frieza had joined them. "Ah! Its you! You're not a Saiyan!" The figures were suddenly right in front of him, their faces locked in a vicious smirk. The air around them rippled and then seemed to burst into flames as they both went Super Saiyan.

Feeling their mocking eyes upon him, Vegeta powered up. Fueled by his rage, a ragged scream pushed its way from his chest. "I am the strongest!" Even as he said it he could feel the lie of it. The light around the two swelled and they started moving away. He tried to keep up, to catch them and punish them for their defiance, but the distance between them grew too quickly.

"They're too fast! I"ll never be able to catch up with them. But I'm the one with royal blood in my veins." His hopelessness overwhelmed him and he turned his anger on the one who'd obviously lied to him all those years. " Father!"

From the darkness around him came an unexpected reply. "Vegeta... someday you will be the strongest Saiyan in the universe."

He knew that voice..."Father? Ohhh" Around him the scene changed. Suddenly, he was six years old again, standing on the bridge of his Father's massive war ship.

"Those ships are head to distant galaxies. From the day we are born we Saiyans are examined for our power and leadership, the weakest of our people are sent to planets far away where they face no threat from our enemies."

Little Vegeta laughed, "Goodbye Pests!"

"Vegeta, you come from a strong bloodline and posses the potential power to join the super elite of all Saiyans. Never forget where you're from and train very hard my son because if you have proven yourself worthy perhaps one day you will become a super saiyan."

Recalling the conversation with his long dead father, and the pride that had swelled with in him, even at such a young age, Vegeta grinned. How could he have doubted the undeniable truth?

"I haven't forgotten what you said father, I haven't forgotten my destiny and now I know that I will be stronger then Kakarrot. I am a super saiyan!" From out of nowhere the pain overtook him, blocking out everything else.

Gasping, he regained consciousness, feeling the stiffness in his body and the throbbing pain that radiated from every part of him. He slowly recalled what had happened. There had been an accident. He'd nearly been killed in that new and improved Gravity Simulator when it had exploded all around him for no reason. Judging from the progression of his healing he could tell that he'd been unconscious for at least one day, if not two. A soft sound to his left drew his attention.

"What is she doing here?" he wondered. The blue-haired woman had apparently fallen asleep while looking over some papers. But why had she been doing it in here? Didn't she have a lab for that sort of thing? The idea that she'd felt compelled to stay by him, that she'd even been concerned enough to need to stay close to him caused some forgotten part of himself, deep, deep inside his chest to stir.

Laying his head back he pondered this new development. Then, beneath the pain, he slowly became aware of a new strength inside him. His power had increased. Thanks to his resilient Saiyan genetics, his brush with death would only leave him stronger then ever. He flexed a fist, testing the damage to his arm. It seemed he had already recovered significantly.

Rising quietly from the bed he made his way out of the Med Center and back towards his old Gravity Simulator. He was anxious to see just how much he had improved.

Out in the yard, Yamcha noticed the lights were on in the old Gravity Simulator. "There's no way Vegeta's back on his feet already!" he said to Puar as they walked over to check it out. Sure enough the snobby Saiyan was working on some one-handed push-ups.

"Initiate Gravity simulation 400 times planets normal gravity. Warning simulation exceeds human biological tolerance levels." The computer spoke in it's calculated voice. Despite it's warning, Vegeta seemed to push harder, bandages and injuries aside. Yamcha watched in amazement, a new found respect for Vegeta clenching in his gut.

"Puar, it's time for us to get back to work." His days of slacking off and working half-assed were over. If Vegeta could push himself to the max like that then he would too.

"Yeah!" Puar shouted, glad to see Yamcha pulling himself together again. The last little while he'd been doing a lot of moping about, but that seemed behind them now.

Bulma had been dreaming uneasily for quite a while before she noticed that something was wrong. It was too quiet. Her subconscious noticed the lack of heavy breathing, other then her own, and quickly brought her to the surface. She opened her eyes and sat up, a crust of drool sticking unpleasantly to the side of her cheek. She turned her head and let her eyes fall upon the now empty medical bed.

"Vegeta?" she asked groggily, not sure why he would have left his bed. Coming more and more awake she pondered the question, going over every conceivable possibility. There was no way he was well enough to be up and walking around. She pushed her chair out from the desk she'd had moved into temporarily and began her search. After finding no sign of him in the kitchen or the bathroom she let herself come to the conclusion that it was probably a worst case scenario. She looked out the window and discovered that, sure enough, the lights for the old GS were indeed on. Running to her lab she turned on the video connection to inside the sphere and saw Vegeta on her screen, his body turning slow circles in the air. A quick check of the Simulation read out revealed he was now at 400 G's.

"Stop it, Vegeta! You are in no condition to be doing this right now! I know you don't want to believe you are made are made of flesh and blood!" She yelled, trying to hide her anxiety and concern with anger.

"Stop pestering me, woman. Leave me alone!" he growled at her threateningly. The small break in his concentration causing him to slip and fall to the floor.

"You know I"m right, so why don't you just keep quiet and do as I say?!" He had to be totally insane to be doing this to himself. She waited for a response but he stayed quiet. "Nothing so say? Well that's good. Now go back to bed and get some rest."

Vegeta raised his eyes to the screen. Sweat was breaking out on his brow. "Not yet, I do have something to say." It appeared he had to struggle to even form the words

"Huh? Is something wrong?" She pushed away her concern and reached for her almost constant irritation with his stubborn pride. "Or maybe your finally going to apologize to me? If that's the case then lets hear it!"

"Leave me alone!" he yelled at her.

"Wha...?" Bulma frowned. How could he be so mean? She was just trying to help.

"Do you want to die in three years?" He spit at her, gathering his strength to stand once again.

Bulma was a bit thrown by his sudden question. "O-of course I'd rather live. After all, I'm still a sexy, young, beautiful lady, you know."

"In that case, shut up!" With that he turned his back on her, signifying the end of the conversation.

Bulma reluctantly terminated the connection and stood, shocked and unmoving. "Wow. What an idiot. Maybe I should just let him kill himself." She didn't know what to do. The harder she pushed the more he pushed her away. Maybe she'd be best to just do as he said and leave him alone.

Walking back to the med center she gathered her things and instructed the in-house bots to clean up. Flipping through her findings so far she tried to focus on working out the problem instead of thinking about Vegeta's pig-head, crazy...

Her eyes fell on the print-out of 2.0's recorded activity log. It wasn't overly long, seeing as how Vegeta had only been in it a few minutes before the explosion. The activity log kept track of all the computers settings, as well as monitoring Vegeta's biological status and energy out-put. Before she'd fallen asleep she'd been checking each systems readout for malfunctions, but so far everything had been working properly. If she understood what had happened just before the accident maybe she could discover the cause.

She flipped to the end of the report, right before the black out caused by the data transmitters going up in flame. Right before everything had gone to hell it looked like Vegeta had used a focused burst of biometric energy measuring at 7.8 kilojoules. In and of itself that amount of energy was next to nothing compared to what GS 2.0 had been designed to handle. But that must have been what set off the destructive incident.

She continued searching through the data for several more minutes before throwing up her hands in surrender. This was going to take hours. It wasn't like Vegeta was going to care why the accident had happened. Chances are he'd just blame her no matter what she found out. If it was her fault she'd want to keep that little fact to herself. She didn't think that mechanical error was likely. Still, she would find out before attempting to replicate any more Gravity Simulators. They had a while before Vegeta outgrew the old one anyway.

A few days later, Bulma had just about given up on the problem all together. Her eyes were tired from staring at one list of numbers after another, and her brain was throbbing from lack of sleep. She'd decided to take a break to get some food, and found her mother in the kitchen preparing the evening meal. She helped her mother finished and called her dad in to join them.

"Vegeta's still training? Oh my.... That man works so hard." Bunni still seemed obsessed with their royal guest. And Bulma's irritation got the better of her.

"Mother! Can we just forget about him? I mean, he hasn't come out of that capsule in days..." not that she was keeping track...

"Well, I must say that I'm becoming quite impressed by that boys unshakable determination. Why just the other day he was training in 400 times Earths gravity. Isn't that amazing?" Yes, it was amazing, among other things. Like insane. Bulma was sure that Vegeta's injuries must still be healing, but he'd not given them another second to rest.

"He's nothing but a thick headed ape!" she slumped in her chair. Kami, she was tired. Well, tonight she was going to get a good nights sleep. Then maybe tomorrow things wouldn't look so bad.

Outside Vegeta kicked the Simulator up to 410, and then, with an impatient growl continued it on to 450 G's. He'd long since pushed the pain and exhaustion into the back of his mind. For days now he'd continued on in a mindless fighting stupor. One drill after another, he pushed forward, determined to succeed.

Now, with the increased g's he could feel it catching up to him. With a final handful of maneuvers he felt his muscles give out.

"No! I can do more!" he cried, clenching a tired fist. He used the last ounces of his strength to stand, and then, using sheer will power alone, he finished his exercise. Proud of his accomplishment he moved to the center panel and shut the machine off. He nearly gasped with relief as the downwards force normalized, releasing the pull on his drained body. He didn't feel the normal floating sensation he got after returning to normal gravity, though. It seemed his body was past it's breaking point.

'Good,' he thought. 'If I can continue to take it one step farther then my limit every day then I shall soon know limitless strength. And it will only be a matter of time before I ascend.'

It seemed he was finally starting to make some real progress. And for that he deserved a shower and a full nights sleep. In the morning he was sure he would be able to feel an increase in his ki and begin pushing it higher still. His stomach growled just then, reminding himself that he had one other thing to take care of.

He made his way to the kitchen. His nose informed him the there was already a meal in progress, which was indeed fortunate. He hated having to hunt down on of the humans to fix his food just as much as he hated having to prepare his own. Upon entering he saw that the others were just finishing up. 'Good, I won't have to endure their company long,' he thought snidely as he slid into a chair. He ignored the looks of shock he was getting from the others and began eating. It amazed him how much he was struggling to even just bring the food to his lips, but he hid it well. He would die before he'd show weakness to these sorry excuse for sentient beings. Besides, the more he ate, the stronger he began feeling. He realized just then how long it had been since he'd eaten a decent meal.

"Well, Vegeta, it is very nice of you to join us," the blonde one grinned at him, sipping her tea.

"Yes, we should be so honored," the younger woman replied but her tone was distinctly more sarcastic. "What's the occasion?"

'Facetious wench,' Vegata thought. Out loud he said, "I have reached the maximum level of that out-of-date piece of crap. It is time for you to rebuild me a better model. One that won't blow up the first time I use it, preferably." The mocking tones were more then a match for Bulma's.

Bulma frowned, a bit of her testiness gone. "We still haven't figured out what caused that explosion." Her frustration with that fact was plain on her face.

"Isn't it obvious?" Vegeta stopped chewing and looked up at the blue-haired scientist. "It has to be a case of inferior manufacturing. As a member of a highly superior race of warriors there's no way that the accident could have been cause by a miscalculation on my part. Besides, I was under the assumption that that machine was supposed to be able to withstand even higher levels of energy burst, which proved to hardly be the case."

Dr. Briefs and his wife had discreetly moved out of the room. They recognized when the two stubborn hot-heads were starting to get into it and had no desire to be caught in the middle.

Bulma hadn't noticed them go. She was too busy squeezing the crap out of her mug. She remembered what happened the last time she let herself get into it with Vegeta. That and her guilt that he was probably right were the only thing keeping her from jumping down his throat right now. "It happens when dealing with un-tried new technology sometimes," she managed to drawl out, swallowing her pride.

"Well, just make sure you get it right next time." Vegeta grumped and went back to his food. He was surprised to find himself experiencing some disappointment that he hadn't gotten more of a rise out of her. Her responses were usually so much more entertaining.

"I still have a lot of data to go through," she said through gritted teeth. Guilt and fear of saying something regrettable would only go so far. She was still Bulma Briefs, after all. "It would go a lot faster if a certain impatient Saiyan Prince would allow himself to submit to some necessary testing."

"No." Vegeta said simply. "The last time was a complete waste of my time. Doing more tests will only waste more. It's a shame you just can't be better, smarter, faster. That would really make this less of a hassle for me."

"Why you.... how dare you?!" Bulma stood slamming her mug down on the table. "I would have thought a prince would have been raised to have better manners!"

"Only when dealing with people who aren't so obviously beneath me it's painful just having to interact with them." His smirk deepened. Possibly his efforts wouldn't be wasted after all.

"HA!" Bulma's barking laugh made him look up at her. "I'm surprised you don't think everyone is "so obviously beneath you"! I thought you saw yourself as far superior to everyone!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Woman. I am the most superior of beings in the universe, but not every race is as pathetic, as simpering and despicable as you and your race! You just don't know any better because so far your primitive technology has only let you experience the tiniest slice of the know galaxies." Vegeta had followed Bulma to her feet, not willing to let her tower over him for longer then necessary.

"Oh, trust me!" she laughed darkly in his face. "If the rest of the universe is as self-absorbed and rude as you then I'd rather just forget they even exist." She wasn't going to let him win this one.

"It figures you'd try and use ignorance to protect yourself from the truth. The fact of the matter is, you and your race are just fodder for the slaughter, waiting for some far superior being to come along and wipe you out with a flick of their wrist. In fact, if Kakarrot hadn't damaged his brain as an infant that's exactly what would have happened. I guess I'd have trouble accepting that fact too, if I were so stupid and delusional. You just don't have the brains to admit when you're defeated"

"Delusional?!" Bulma scoffed. "Look who's talking?! I can safely say that you, Vegeta, are positively the most deluded person I'm ever had the mis-fortune to encounter. You can't even see the good around you. You won't accept the fact that Goku has gotten stronger then you because of that goodness inside him. It's his hope in life and joy that make him who he is. More then genetics, more then his "Saiyan Heritage". He's a super Saiyan because he let himself be open to the possibilities of friendship and love and happiness. Something that I'm sure you can't even comprehend!" Part of her was pleading with him to open his eyes and realize the truth as much as she was defending herself and her race. "Our existence may seem pathetic and despicable to you, but that's just because you can't even see what you're missing out on."

Vegeta stood stunned for a second. He was amazed by the pure burning passion of her words and her expression. He remembered the admiration he'd felt for her fearlessness when she'd show up so see Frieza face to face, knowing full well it would only lead to her destruction. He'd merely been bating her for the fun of it, but now he was caught unprepared for the intensity of her words. He subconsciously squashed his appreciation for her spirit and continued smirking at her. "As if I cared about any of that. I'm not "missing out" on anything I don't want to miss out on. That's the thing about having power and being truly great. There is no better feeling then destroying a worthy foe. No greater work then establishing yourself as a force to be feared and worshiped. No greater legacy then leaving a smoldering trail of vanquished enemies through the course of history. And that is something you will never comprehend."

Bulma's heart sank as she felt herself being pulled under by the Prince's words. Not because he was right. But because he was so fiercely wrong. Her expression softened into a look Vegeta couldn't put a name to.

"If you really think that is true, then I pity, Vegeta." She felt the first prickling of tears in her eyes. "How sad that life holds nothing more for you then one battle after another. I can't even..." her words choked in her throat. "I'm sorry for you," she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut she turned and fled.

Vegeta stood stunned for second time. "Don't you dare pity me!" he yelled after her. His exhaustion returned and he collapsed in his chair with a scowl. 'What the hell just happened?' he wondered. Quickly he finished his food and then retired to his room for the night, his thoughts staying with that expression. Every time he closed his eyes he could see tears building in a pair of ocean-blue eyes. Soon his mind ached with the sight of it and he held his head trying to squeeze the image from his mind. So much for a well-deserved nights rest. "Stupid Woman." he muttered rolling over for the hundredth time. It would be hours before sleep would claim him.

And so it begins... *evil laughter* Did I keep them in character? Review and let me know!


	4. Oops

A/N: Some technichal stuff in here, don't mind the big words they just work here.

Disclaimer: I don't own it. Damn Shame.

Chapter 4

Oops...

Bulma had risen from bed that morning feeling more rested then she had in a long time. The night before had been a disaster, but she felt cleansed somehow. She couldn't believed she'd nearly cried in front of Vegeta. She needed to stop taking him so personally. He treated everyone like crap. That was just the way he was. Maybe someday he would change, but for now, she had vowed to stop letting him get to her. And he'd been right about one thing. She needed to hurry up and figure out what happened with GS 2.0.

Focused entirely on that one goal she sat at her desk, sheets and sheets of data before her. "Think, Bulma, think!" she said to herself.

"What's that dear?" her father asked from across the room.

"Oh, nothing, dad, I'm just talking to myself." She said absently as she started making a mental list of everything she'd been over already.

Dr. Briefs chuckled. 'That's my girl,' he thought. 'Anything to inspire the creative process.' Sometimes he marveled at how alike they were.

Back in her own head Bulma was mentally checking off the Gravity Simulation Device itself. All of the readings indicated that the level of gravity had been constant and exactly what Vegeta had set it to. Also, the training bots hadn't even been powered up, let alone activated at the time of the accident, so it couldn't be them. She flipped through the newly added training enhancing developments. The ki absorbing shield around the inner hull hadn't even had a chance to react to Vegeta's blast. It showed no energy consumption up until the explosion was already happening. And the sub-sonic bio-magnetic emitter seemed... 'Wait a second,' she thought her eyes re-scanning the data. Just before the explosion, about the time Vegeta would have been powering up for the blast, there had been a slight fluctuation in the sub-sonic frequency. She hadn't noticed it before because it was so slight, but since there shouldn't have been any change in frequency at all... that had to be it! But how? 'That frequency is set to exactly match Vegeta's bio-magnetic signature. The additional magnetic pulses from the emitter were designed to further stimulate the neuro-muscular junctions in his muscle tissue to increase the contraction of each individual muscle fiber. That would, in turn, maximize his muscle efficiency as well as lead to increased compensation through better muscle tone and repair.'

Walking herself through the scientific process brought her back to her original conclusion. 'But that frequency was set to match Vegeta's personal signature. And there hadn't been a malfunction as far as the emitter was concerned. From what she was reading the frequency had been altered sometime between when it left the emitter and when it was recorded by the data recording sensors. Which was impossible. 'Unless...'

"Hey, dad, come look at this," she waved him over holding the relevant pages out to him.

"What's this?" he asked curiously as he began to look them over. Bulma just bit her lip and waited hoping that if she was right her father would come to the same conclusion. "Hmmm..." he said after a few minutes. "Vegeta was alone when the Gravity Sumilator exploded, was he not?"

"I'm sure he was." Bulma stated. "He would have said something if anyone else had interrupted his precious training." She was sure of it now. She had to be right.

"Well then that means... OH!" Dr. Briefs eyes widened in realization. "Then that means..."

"Yep!" Bulma smiled, excited with the discovery. "I don't know why we didn't consider the possibility before. After all, it explains a lot." A LOT. "We need to do more tests, but I'm certain this will fix the problem. Why don't you get production started on a new Simulator, sans the bio emitter. I'm going to go have a word with Vegeta. Hopefully I'll be able to get him to see reason." Bulma's excitement was nearly bubbling over as she began searching the lab.

"All right, dear," the good Doctor said as he walked over to his telephone to call their GIST department to put in the order. It was a good thing that Capsule Corps. had snagged a military contract just last week that had brought in Billions. GIST had developed a marketable prototype of the Gravity Simulator dumbed down to be practical for human usage. Along with the leaps and bounds they'd made in Inter-planetary Space Travel they were set pretty good on funding. Not that they'd been nearing destitution before but still, if this continued he could foresee them spending a lot more on their alien guest.

"GIST Supervisor Edwards here?" the voice on the other end brought Dr. Briefs back to his task.

"Yes, Edwards, Dr. Trunks Briefs here. I need you to start production on another one of those "projects" for me. Prototype CC35GS2.0, you remember? Only I need this one to have systems program CC37BME33.7 disabled. Priority Rush on this one too, if you don't mind."

"Of course!" Supervisor Edwards replied enthusiastically.

While he finished going over some specifics over the phone he watched Bulma as she systematically continued to dismantle the lab. At least that's what it looked like she was doing. Placing his hand over the receiver he frowned and asked, "What are you doing, Bulma? I thought you were going to talk with Vegeta." He'd been delighted to get out of that little duty. Vegeta intimidated Trunks Briefs to no end.

"I'm going to!" She exclaimed pulling open another set of cabinets. "I'm just looking for..." her voice was muffled as she stuck her head inside and started pulling out the contents. "Do you remember what I did with that..." again muffled words were all he heard as she disappeared under a cascade of spare parts and miscellaneous pieces of scrap metal. "Oh, never mind, I found it!" she shouted, and then promptly hit her head on a shelf as she attempted to retract her head. "Ouch!" she grumbled, rubbing the back of her skull. In her hand she held what looked like half a pair of sunglasses. The trendy, colored-class kind.

Stumbling back over to her computer she plugged the base of the ear piece into an adaptable cable that was attached to her hard drive. After a few seconds of pulling up system code she plugged in a few command variations. "That should do it!" she saved the code and then unplugged the device.

Bulma managed to almost trip several times as she walked to the door. She'd left quite a mess in the wake of her frantic search. Dr. Briefs shook his head as he hung up the phone. Yes, he and his daughter were similar in some ways, but in others... they were complete strangers. "Well, Kitty," he said to the sleeping animal curled up on his shoulder. She opened her eyes and looked up at him then, awaken by the sound of her name. "I guess we're left to clean up the mess."

"Meow."

Vegeta was just managing to stave off a particularly bad mood as he worked through some of his more challenging routines. Even getting only a few hours of sleep had recovered an impressive amount of energy. And the large breakfast he'd inhaled that morning before getting to work had helped in that respect as well. But somehow his pleasure in light of such good news was overshadowed by the fact that he was still replaying the stupid woman's words in his head. He didn't understand why the things she'd said had made such a strong impression, but the fact that they had affected him at all was maddening.

He tried chalking it up to her ignorance, her inferior understanding, her mind-numbing irrationality. But her words still haunted him.

_He's a super Saiyan because he let himself be open to the possibilities of friendship and love and happiness. Something that I'm sure you can't even comprehend! Our existence may seem pathetic and despicable to you, but that's just because you can't even see what you're missing out on._

What was he missing out on? Friendship? Love? Happiness? All delusions of a weak mind. But if what she said about Kakarrot were true, then...

Impossible. Weakness could never breed strength. It was unthinkable. It went against everything he understood to be true. And then, worst of all, her final words had stung him to the very core.

_If you really think that is true, then I pity, Vegeta. I'm sorry for you._

It was... intolerable. How dare she pity him? She was sorry for him?! HA! She should feel sorry for herself. She should... be banging at his door right this second.

"Hey! Vegeta! Come out here!" He heard her voice muffled through the metal door.

"Go away, Woman, I'm training!" He yelled. The last thing he needed right now was another distraction involving that... demanding, loud, hideous creature.

"Don't make me unplug it, Vegeta!" She yelled back. "You're going to want to hear this, trust me! I may have solved all your problems!"

"What?!" Vegeta said, shock in his voice. What exactly did she think his problems were. "I'm fine. My only problem is that you keep pestering me all the time!" He was prepared to ignore her indefinitely if necessary.

"Oh come on?! Please!?" She waited. He ignored her. "Fine! I'm pulling the plug. Three!... Two!"

Vegeta's anger skyrocketed. She wouldn't dare! And now she was counting at him as if he were some kind of infant. Well, it was time he put her back in her place. "Fine!" he roared moving to turn off the power. "Just you wait, woman..." he snarled under his breath.

With the gravity back to normal he walked to the door and opened it. "If you really have such an intense death wish, you should have just asked. I'd have gladly put you out of your misery months ago!" he growled, hands on hips.

"Whatever, Vegeta," she said dismissively. "Just come out here for a second. I think I've found out what happened to the other Simulator."

"Good for you, but why does that justify you disturbing me, yet again?" he asked, stepping outside, but only to get in her face and be more intimidating, of course. "Just fix it and be done bothering me!"

"Oh, we did! Daddy's got a new one on order as we speak." She grabbed his wrist and pulled him towards the edge of the yard.

"They WHY the HELL are you here?" he asked, exasperated at her audacity. He pulled his arm from her grip and stopped in his tracks. She turned around and glared at him in response. "Just tell me Woman, or I will blast you where you stand for the interruption."

"Oh fine," Bulma sighed, rolling her eyes at him. "But, seriously, Vegeta, you are such a Drama Queen!"

"Woman..." he growled one last warning.

"Okay, look, first things first I need you to blast that tree over there," she said as she pulled an object from her pocket and slid it over her right eye. It looked suspiciously like a scouter.

"You dragged me all the way out here to help you with your gardening?!" He didn't think he could get more angry.

"Don't be stupid, Vegeta. I need to get a reading on your energy emissions." She pointed at the tree again. "Now please, the tree."

Vegeta narrowed his eyes. "I'm not stupid." He huffed one last time and then decided the only way to get the answers he wanted was to go along. For now. But only because killing her now would leave him with an unresolved question. Turning angrily he raised a fist and blasted the poor innocent tree into micro-dust. "Okay, Woman, now you will explain yourself. What did you mean when you said you may have solved all my problems."

As if she hadn't been offensive enough already she seemed to be ignoring him as she studied the scanner on her face. "37.3 deca-hertz..." she muttered to herself as if he wasn't even there. "And the other was... 33.7... which means..." Bulma's eyes snapped to Vegeta's face and she grinned. "I was right! Kami, Vegeta you are just going to love me after this..."

"Doubtful.." he snarled. "I'll probably die of old age before you manage to spit out what was so important that you had to..."

Bulma cut him off. "Your Ki!" she exclaimed.

"What about it?" he frowned.

"It's out of sync. With the rest of you, I mean." she hurriedly explained. "See, everyone has a unique Bio-magnetic frequency. It's like... It's like an electro-chemical fingerprint, kind of. And everyone's is a little different."

"I know what unique means, baka..." Vegeta hissed and Bulma suddenly realized just how seriously pissed His Royal Highness actually was.

"Oh, of course you do. What was I thinking? Well, anyway we measured your Bio-magnetic Frequency at 33.7 deca-hertz, which is exactly 337 cycles per second. But your ki, well, it should match, seeing as how it's really just a manifestation of your bodies natural energy. But your ki is running at 37.3 deca-hertz. Which is slightly faster." She explained quickly hoping to get out of this alive.

"Which means, what exactly?" Vegeta seemed to have calmed slightly, but he was still frowning intently.

"Well it means that... How do I put this? It seems to me that your Ki is... agitated. Something is disrupting your bodies energy and it's moving at an increased frequency. Which is why the Gravity Simulator exploded. Your body has somehow adjusted to the disruption, which is probably why you're so cranky all the time, but when the frequency we were outputting from the Bio-magnetic emitters came into contact with your ki and it's slightly different frequency, well, it was basically like shattering glass with a pair of tunning forks. The conflicting frequencies cause a vibration that basically tore it all to bits. Really, it's a miracle you survived at all."

"So what you're saying is that, you and your stupid "improvements" almost killed me?" Vegeta said, his anger seeming to return.

"Now wait a second," Bulma said, backing away from Vegeta slowly. "There's no way we could have predicted that this would happen. An internal frequency discrepancy of this nature is highly improbable. In fact, if I hadn't seen it myself I wouldn't have believed it possible. Theoretically you should be dead from the disruption anyway. Any normal human would be. And it's not like we did it on purpose."

"Are you sure?" he asked, getting in her face again. "It would've seemed like the perfect way to rid yourselves of a far superior being you had no chance of killing by conventional means. How do I know that you weren't trying to get rid of me? If our roles were reversed I can assure you I would have taken any opportunity to take YOU out." He was nearly spitting in her face at this point.

Bulma had been backing away but with that she stopped. "Well, I'm not like you." She whispered firmly. "And I don't want you dead. If I did I'd just call Goku."

That simple insult smacked strangely of the truth. "You would be smart to do just that. I could end your life and the life of all you hold dear in a matter of seconds, without even breaking a sweat and sleep very soundly afterwards." He honestly wanted to know why they'd actually tried to help him. He deserved nothing but vengeance from these humans. He'd shown up on earth, killed many of their own, including the weakling this woman called mate. Then he'd beaten their champion to a bloody pulp before they'd gotten lucky and cut off his tale. And instead of revenge, he'd been shown mercy. And still he'd tried to kill them, going in search of the Namekian Dragon balls in order to win immortality so that he could return to finish what he'd started. Then, by some unhappy accident he'd been wished back with the others killed by Frieza's hand and brought to Earth where he'd been offered only hospitality and forgiveness. It was insane. It didn't make any sense! WHY!?

Bulma held his gaze calmly, her expression softening, much as it had the night before. "I don't really think you would, Vegeta. I think there's more to you then you let on. I've seen goodness in you. I know you could be a better man, if only you'd..."

"A better man!? I suppose you mean like that brain-less buffoon Kakarrot. Am I right?"

"Yes! ... No!... I mean... kind of." Bulma looked down. "I don't think you could be exactly like Goku, it's not in your nature..."

"Damn straight..." he grunted.

"...but you've seen Goku's strength! You know what I"m talking about. You could be... more." She finished, exasperated that she couldn't find the right words. "I don't believe you're truly as evil as you want everyone to believe, Vegeta. It's all a front you put up to protect yourself. But you don't need to protect yourself from us. Goku and... the rest of us, we could help you understand that. If you'd just..." her voice trailed off as she noted the stone-like expression taking it's place on Vegeta's face.

"That is enough. You obviously don't know me at all. And you have no idea what's good for you, either. You should fear me. Fear me, and my power and NEVER presume you know ANYTHING about me." The venom in his tone stung her viciously.

Even now she could see the pain underlying his words. 'Why can't you just try to understand, Vegeta?' she wanted to scream, but settled with trying to tell him with her eyes. Finally, when she realized he wasn't going to relax, she shook her head and looked at the grass. "I'm not your enemy, Vegeta. I'm just trying to help you. I just thought you'd want to know why you're having trouble becoming a super saiyan, that's all. But I can see I'm wasting my breath..." she turned to go.

"Wait!" Vegeta said after a second. Bulma felt a faint smile of hope creep up the edge of her face.

"What, Vegeta?" she asked, trying to sound calm and complacent.

"This Ki disruption. You think it has something to do with my inability to ascend to Super Saiyan?" His voice remained gruff and somewhat annoyed but she suspected there was a touch of hope in it too.

Banishing her smile she turned around slowly. "Yes. I do." She said firmly.

"And how does one... fix such a disruption?" He forced himself to ask.

"Well," she said, thinking about it. "It would help if I understood the cause of the disruption. But without knowing that I would say... if I had to make an educated guess? That you need to relax."

"Relax?" He sounded like that was the last thing he expected to hear.

"Yes, relax. The agitated state of your ki signature says to me that you're too up tight. You're trying too hard. It's kind of a chicken vs. the egg thing. You're ki is off which irritates you sub-consciously which causes you to get uptight, which increases the disruption and thus the sub-conscious irritation and so forth. It's a vicious cycle. One, I'd say, you are deeply submerged in." she challenged with a raised eyebrow. "Now, I'd have to do more research to know for sure. And, like I said, knowing the cause of the disruption would certainly speed things along, but yeah. Mostly you need to calm down."

He narrowed his eyes at her again. He was sure this was another attempt to get him to lower his guard. "And just how do you purpose to learn the cause?" he asked suspiciously.

"Well, for starters, more tests. And it would probably include quite a lot of psychotherapy as well." She said as casually as possible.

"Psychotherapy? What is that?"

"Its... getting inside your head. Figuring out why you are the way you are. Talking about your past and your feelings..." Bulma said, trying her best not to give Vegeta her own version of his triumphant smirk.

"Certainly not!" He said as if she'd suggested he should wear a tu-tu and do the hokey-pokey.

"I'm just saying..." She shrugged. "You're welcome to try and fix it yourself. I'm not sure how you would go about trying to right internal conflict you weren't even aware of until I brought it to your attention, but feel free to try." She headed for the house again, calling over her shoulder. "Good luck with that. Oh, and don't forget, you're kind of on a schedule here." And with that she was gone.

Vegeta stormed back into Simulator and slammed the door. That woman was crazy if she thought he was going to let her anywhere near his head. She could just take her "psychotherapy" and shove it. And he wasn't submitting to anymore tests either. He slammed his fist down on the panel activating the 450 g's once again. For all he knew it was just some kind of ploy to humiliate and disgrace him. Perhaps he'd been wrong about them not seeking revenge. Maybe this race's brand of vengeance was just a lot more cruel and subtle then he'd ever imagined. And they said HE was evil. The worst he'd ever done was physically terrorizing people and committing mass murder. He'd never sunk so low as to force them to dig up their past. Compared to psychotherapy, his methods were infinitely more merciful. Even a slow agonizing death by the most terrible torture methods ever devised was preferred to... sharing his feelings.

Yamcha had set the weights almost a full five minutes ago but had yet to lift them even once. His eyes were focused across the room where a dozen or so women doing leg lifts to a hyperactive techno tune. It had been weeks since the last time he'd been with Bulma and if things continued being distant between them it might be weeks more. His groin twitched as he remembered their last morning together. This spell of abstinence was going to kill him.

"Hey, buddy, I can get you into that class if you'd like?" One of the gyms personal trainers had caught him staring.

Yamcha blushed and scrambled to focus on the task at hand. "No, that's okay..." He pushed his arms up too quickly, the distraction making his control slip, and he sent the weights flying from their spot on the machine and crashing into Yamcha and the unsuspecting trainer. Lying under the spilled bricks he sighed to himself. Weight lifting was useless. His training was at a stand still. "Maybe some cardio would be a good idea after all," he said sheepishly.

For the next few months Vegeta made a point to avoid Bulma at all costs. As far as he was concerned, he had everything he needed. A shiny new Gravity Simulator, version 2.1, a never ending supply of food, and a place to rest his head. And for the time being he ignored what Bulma had told him about fixing his Ki. And for the time being she was willing to let him do so.

Bulma spent her time catching up on her Capsule Corps. work and doing some much needed shopping. She was just counting the days until he realized she was right and came to her for help. Eventually, she knew that the seed of logic she'd planted would sprout and grow. The seed of truth that would nibble at his mind until he gave in. The second he truly believed that she was the only thing that could help him become a Super Saiyan he would crack. If she knew anything about Vegeta at all it was that nothing else mattered more then that. She hoped that included his pride because Bulma knew she was right. She could wait. She wouldn't push. Besides, she had other things to do. Her life didn't revolve around him.

Standing in front of her mirror, Bulma tilted her head this way and that. It was about time for a new hair style, she thought. Fingering her spiral perm she considered a few options and then moved to the bags piled on her bed. Sorting through them she found the Vanessa's Mysteries bag and pulled out her new swimming suit. It was sunny and warm and she figured she would start her summer make-over by getting the perfect tan. She quickly changed into her new suit and then, after grabbing a towel, her ipod, and her tanning oil she headed out back.

Finding the perfect, sunny spot she laid out her towel and situated herself comfortable onto it. She poured a handful of the tanning oil into her palm and began applying it to her legs. She slowly worked it into one calf, and then the other moving to her thighs and then up to her stomach and arms. She wasn't sure how she was going to get her back, but since she was going to start with her front she decided not to worry about it for now. Putting her earphones in she chose her favorite playlist and smiled as a particularly favorite song started. Closing her eyes she laid back enjoying the sensation of sun and oil heating her skin. She let her mind wander, listening to the music and loving the perfectness of that moment. It took her a minute before she noticed that a shadow had fallen across her face. Cracking on eye she was more then surprised to see Vegeta standing over her.

"Yes, Vegeta? Can I help you with something?" she asked politely as she removed one ear piece.

"I was unaware that humans liked their flesh as well-cooked as their food." Vegeta smirked.

"What? This?" she waved at her exposed, oil-covered skin. "This is just a little melanin stimulation." She winked at him as she closed her eyes again and continued to bask. "You wouldn't mind stepping just a little to your left, would you? I really don't want a flame-shaped tan line across my breasts. Thanks, you're a doll." She smiled as she heard his shocked inhale followed by a low growl.

"Actually, I do mind. In fact, I think it is you that should move. Preferably, to the other side of the compound. You and your vulgar display have encroached on my side of the yard," he growled.

"Your side?" she laughed sitting up. Looking around she noticed the GS about 20 feet away. "Oh, I'm sorry. That is the Simulator over there isn't."

"I'm sure you knew that full well," Vegeta growled.

"I don't know what you're talking about," She smiled at him innocently. "Seriously, Vegeta, lighten up. If I remember correctly this is still MY house. And my yard, despite your continued use of that portion of it over there. Besides, the light is better over here. Moving to the other side of the compound is out of the question. I'm sorry, but this is simply the best place for tanning."

"And it's just a coincidence that the best place happens to be right next to where I'm TRYING to get some training done?" He asked skeptically.

"Well, of course, Vegeta, what else would it be?" she shook her head at him, looking genuinely confused. Vegeta wasn't sure he was buying it.

"Hey, do me a favor?" Bulma said, flipping over. "Could you put oil on my back for me? I can't reach." Vegeta narrowed his eyes to tiny slits and scowled. It was just as he suspected.

"I will not," he sneered. "Don't be disgusting."

"Disgusting?" Bulma frowned, looking over her shoulder at him. "What's up with you today, Vegeta? I just asked you for a simple favor. If you don't want to help me out that's fine, but you don't need to be so mean about it. Kami, Vegeta. You'd think you thought I was trying to get you to do something morally corrupt. No, wait, then you'd be all over it."

"Don't play dumb. You know exactly what you're trying to do. I don't suppose a weak-minded fool such as you can help herself." He spit back.

"Honestly, Vegeta, what are you talking about?" Bulma turned back over and sat up again.

Vegeta just frowned. There was no way he was going to let her force him into saying it aloud. The very idea that this ballsy little vixen was trying to seduce him was despicable enough without him having to announce it to the world. As if he would ever be tempted by such a physically inferior female.

"What is it?" Bulma repeated, throwing her hands up. "You know what, just forget I even asked. I'll do it myself." She grabbed the bottle and poured some into her hand. Sliding her hand over her right shoulder she got as much as she could that way and then reached around her side to get some more. She figures she was missing quite a bit, but there was nothing else she could do.

Vegeta watched, his frustration at the situation increasing ten fold. First, he'd been distracted by the sight of the woman rubbing her body down while wearing nothing but a few minuscule scraps of light green fabric. Then to have her deny right to his face her plot to embarrass him sexually had been even worse, but now... the way she was reaching around herself made her breasts press together in such a way as to make his eyes want to bulge from their sockets. Between the limited material surrounding them and oil drenching her front they were seconds away from sliding out all together.

"Just... stop!" He shouted. Bulma froze, her eyes widening at his sudden outburst.

"What?" She set the bottle of oil down and stood up slowly. "Look, Vegeta, it's my body and I can tan if I want to. It's nice of you to be concerned about my well-being but really, you don't have to worry. I created this oil myself. It's specifically designed to block 99.9 percent of all harmful rays! It'll be fine. Really! It's better then a good SPF lotion! Trust me, I know what I'm doing. You think I'd risk this amazing skin just to catch a few rays? Heck no! I'd never put this kind of perfection at a high risk for cancer. It's perfectly safe!" She picked up the bottle to start on the other side, as if to demonstrate.

"SPF?" She thought he was concerned with her health? Frowning again he decided maybe he was imaging things after all. She was vain enough to be believed. Either way he couldn't allow her to distract him from his training any longer. "Give me that," he growled grabbing the bottle from her hand. "If I assist you in applying this fluid will you move over there to finish your "tanning"?" he asked, pointing to a spot out of line with the GS's windows. He sounded absolutely at wits end.

Bulma looked over to where he was pointing, frowning slightly. "Well, sure, I guess. If it means that much to you, Vegeta." She turned her back on him now and pulled her hair out of the way. "All you had to do was ask. I don't know why you're acting all weird about this..." She said, and then smiled devilishly as she heard him squeeze oil onto his hand.

Vegeta stood, totally mortified as he held the greasy substance in his hand. Looking at the woman's almost completely nude back and wondering how he'd allowed himself to be so compromised in the first place. Gritting his teeth he slowly placed his hand on her left shoulder and started applying the oil. He moved in quick little circles over her shoulder blades and then down to her lower back. In seconds he was done.

Smiling victoriously Bulma turned around. "Thanks, Veg..." but he was nowhere to be seen. The bottle of oil was lying haphazardly in the grass and Vegeta was gone. "Huh?" She glanced around, but there was no sign of him. "He can be such a weirdo sometimes..." she muttered with a shrug as she gathered her towel to move, just as Vegeta had requested a deal was a deal, after all. And even though she'd promised herself she wasn't going to push him, there was nothing wrong with helping him to see her as less of a threat. Mission number one: Earn Vegeta's trust. Not an easy task, to say the least, but she felt she had a pretty good start.

A few days later Bulma arrived home from the hairdressers with a glowing look on her face. Walking into the house she passed her mother, who did a quick double take and then put her hands to her mouth.

"Oh, Bulma! You're hair looks just fabulous!" She pulled her daughter towards her to get a better look. "You're just so beautiful! I don't know why you don't have more boyfriends?!" Again with her mother and the men.

"Oh, mom..." Bulma couldn't help but blush. She ran her fingers through her hair and smiled at the softness of her new do. Instead of a tiny spiral she was now sporting a gentle body perm that helped showcase her hair's length nicely. It was past her shoulders now. 'And there's still some curl to it...' she smiled again picturing the way her hair now well in waves and large, soft ringlets. Her bangs had long since gown out framing her face more softly from the sides. It complimented her delicate facial features wonderfully.

She gave herself a mental pat on the back as she listened to more of her mother's ooing and ahing. It had been a good choice. Now if there was anyone around to appreciate it that would be even better. She and Yamcha hadn't seen each other since just after the 2.0 incident. She felt a little guilty that she hadn't even really thought of him till just now. Maybe she'd give him a call...

Dr. Briefs entered just then carrying Kitty and a stack of paperwork. "Oh, hello, Bulma. You changed your hair. Did you get the DOD memo from this morning?"

Bulma smiled at her father. That was her dad. Ever observant but never sentimental. "Yes, Dad. I already e-mailed my response to R&D. I forwarded you a copy too if you're interested in my recommendations." she walked over to the fridge and pulled out an apple and a knife to cut it into slices with.

"Oh that's fine. Great work," He smiled back. After Bulma finished cutting her fruit he stole a slice and winked at her as he left just as quickly as he'd arrived. She just shook her head and smiled. After grabbing the peanut butter she sat down at the table for one of her favorite mid-day snacks. Pulling out her cell phone she dialed Yamcha's number, not sure if he was going to be home at this time of day or not.

He picked up after the fourth ring. He was laughing as he said, "Hello?"

"Oh, hey, Yamcha, it's me!" she announced.

"Uh...? Bulma?" Yamcha asked, his laughter fading. "Is that you?"

Bulma frowned. "Yes, it's me. Where you expecting someone else?" She refused to be hurt by his lack of enthusiasm.

"Oh, no, I just... hadn't heard from you in a while is all. How's things?" he was at least trying to sound interested now. In the background she heard someone giggling.

"Sorry, is this not a good time?" she asked. She was rethinking the wisdom behind her decision to give him a call.

"Oh, it's fine, I'm just... I have some people over, that's all." He stammered.

"In the middle of the day?" she asked skeptically.

"Well, yeah. It's just some friends from my dance aerobics class. Is that okay?" he sounded like he was preparing for a tongue lashing.

"Yeah, I guess that's fine. I just wanted to call and say hi. So hi. How's the training going?"

"Oh it's good. It's good..."he said awkwardly and there was more laughing in the background. "You know, Bulma, it's weird you should call today, I was just thinking I needed to call and talk to you about something..." He sounded a little hesitant.

"Yeah? What's that?" she asked picking up a piece of apple and dipping it in the peanut butter.

"Well, I was just thinking that, since we've both been so busy lately and all, that maybe we should cool things off with us for a while. You know... see other people and all that. What do you think?" He tried to laugh it off, if anything sounding even more awkward.

"Well," Bulma said, thinking it sounded like he'd already taken the initiative to "see" other people on his own. "I think that sounds like a good idea. Both of us being so "busy" and all. Sounds like you're really busy right now, in fact." She said with just a hint of anger.

"Right," he only cringed a little. "Well, okay then, I guess that settles it." He paused trying to think of something to say. "I guess I'll see you around then."

"I guess so," she said. "Bye." And that was that. Hanging up she noticed for the first time that Vegeta was standing in the doorway watching her as if she were a time bomb about to go off. She swallowed her irritation at Yamcha and tried to smile. "Hey, Vegeta, how's it hang'n?" she asked, putting her cell on the table and bitting into her apple and peanut butter.

"How's what hang'n?" he asked as he stepped into the room and walked to the fridge. He had forced his expression back into neutral Vegeta scowl number seven.

"It's just an expression, Vegeta," Bulma said, enjoying the flavors mingling in her mouth. "It means, How are you doing? What's up? Que Pasa? Donde Esta? What's shak'n? And so on."

"Whatever," he said and pulled out an apple of his own. Taking a big bite he chewed slowly. Then he grabbed a tub of macaroni salad, a loaf of bread, two chunks of ham, a block of American cheese and a medium sized head of Lettice. Setting the ingredients on the counter he began to make himself a sandwich. It was about the only thing that he knew how to make. When he was finished he placed his ginormous sandwich on a plate with his half-eaten apple and then carried the plate and the tub of salad to the table.

Eyeing Bulma for a possible ambush, he slid carefully into the chair furthest from her and began eating. He was avoiding any eye contact at all now that he was satisfied that she posed to immediate threat.

Bulma was a bit surprised that Vegeta had fixed his own food at all. Usually he was up in arms, demanded to be waited on hand and foot. She realized that maybe this had been going on for a while now. Since he'd done everything possible to avoid human contact lately he might not have had a choice. She still considered it an improvement.

"Have you ever tried peanut butter with your apples?" Bulma asked as she chewed her next slice.

Vegeta continued to not look at her. "You shouldn't talk with your mouth full. Don't you know it's rude?"

Bulma rolled her eyes at the fact that Vegeta was giving her a lecture in manners. She finished chewing and swallowed. "Well, have you?" she inquired again.

"No," she said, still avoiding her questions. "It looks disgusting."

"Well, it's not." She said amiably. "You should try it. You might like it. You never know..." she popped another goop-covered slice into her mouth. Finally, Vegeta paused his eating and looked up at her. He wondered what her angle was. He'd seen her eat from the same apple, so it wasn't likely to be poison... She just smiled at him and offered him her last slice, a large mound of golden, peanut buttery goodness on the end of it.

They sat like that for a minute. Her offering a seemingly harmless morsel of food, him analyzing her for any possible trap. He didn't want to look like he was afraid. Hesitantly he reached out and accepted the adorned apple slice. Slowly he brought it to his mouth watching her face for anything suspicious. Sliding the whole thing between his lips he started to chew.

"So?" she asked. "What do you think."

He thought it was pretty good. He said, "Hmm," and then went back to his other food. Bulma watched him for a second, smiling as he eyed the peanut butter slowly and then glanced at his own unfinished apple.

She stood slowly and walked to the sink. Grabbing the knife she'd used she rinsed it off and then walked back to the table. Holding the knife she reached across the table...

Vegeta sat back, not quite flinching but looking very uncomfortable as she picked up his apple. Then he watched her like a hawk as she sat down and began cutting it into slices. She was also giving him a funny look.

"You seem a little jumpy, Vegeta. Is everything okay?" She asked curiously.

"I'm fine," he grunted non-committal like as he finished his sandwich and picked up his fork to start on the macaroni salad.

"Cause if I didn't know any better I'd say you were just a tinsy bit scared of me..." she raised an eyebrow in question and he froze, fork halfway to his wide open mouth.

"That is preposterous." he said simply. "I would never be scared of a highly inferior weakling like yourself." he scoffed as he stuffed the fork in his mouth and continued eating.

"Well, that's what I would have thought..." Bulma shrugged it off.

Vegeta just scolded himself for acting foolishly in the first place. Of coarse this silly woman posed him no threat. She was neither strong enough nor smart enough to cause him any concern. Still, there was something about the way she'd been acting... nicer then usual somehow. He recalled hearing her phone conversation earlier. Maybe it had something to do with her and that weakling Yamcha.

Nodding towards her phone he raised an eyebrow. "So you finally decided to toss that looser after all, eh?" he said between bites.

Bulma sighed. Inside she was stinging a little from the loss. Her and Yamcha were finally over. For good. It just didn't feel real yet. She shrugged. "Yeah, well, things have been over for a while now. We just decided to make it official."

Vegeta scoffed slightly. "I would have thought you'd have turned on the waterworks by now," he challenged her mockingly.

"I don't know..." she sighed. "I mean I'm upset a little, I guess. I mean we were together for so long! And from the sounds of it he's already moved on, but... Like I said, things haven't really been that great for a while now, so I guess I just have to face the idea that Yamcha and I aren't going to grow old together."

Vegeta grunted another mindless agreement as he picked up an apple slice and dipped it in the peanut butter.

Bulma got up to grab a fork from the silverware drawer and sat back down, reaching for the tub of macaroni she took a fork full and chewed thoughtfully. "Things were great when we first met. He was dangerous and exiting and yet adorably naive at the same time. We had some good times together, don't get me wrong. Just lately... things had gotten so... boring."

Vegeta stuffed another apple and peanut butter in his mouth and chewed slowly. As he swallowed he opened his mouth to say he thought she deserved better anyway when it hit him that they were actually have a conversation. An actual conversation with her opening up and sharing and... him acting like he cared. His face dropped into a sharp scowl. 'Pathetic wench! How could I let my guard down so easily!?' he thought as he glared at her innocently chewing away. He snarled as he grabbed the macaroni tub from her hand.

"Hey...!" she said sitting up straight. "I was eating that!" she reached for it quickly. Just as quickly he jerked it out of her grasp.

"Well, I was eating it first. Go find your own food!" he shouted back at her.

Bulma slammed her fork down on the table and stood, huffing slightly. "Fine. I was done anyway." She said petulantly and headed for the door.

"And your hair looks stupid," he called over his shoulder. He wasn't going to even consider the fact that wasn't entirely true.

"Ooooh!" she screeched and then stormed out.

'That'll teach her...' he thought with a smug smile as he finished the last of the macaroni and reached for the peanut butter.


	5. Round 2 Ding Ding Ding!

A/N: Now we're out of the known and into the unknown... And things are gonna get interesting. At least I hope you'll think so. Anyway, hold on to your tails, it's gonna be a bumpy ride. A little cussing in this, and some minor minor violence, but nothing too major. Just Mucho Angsto.

Disclaimer: Next year I'm hoping to make a million-kabillion dollars so that I can buy Dragonball Z and make it mine. Until then... It belongs to that Toriyama guy. Poop.

Chapter 5:

Round 2 Ding Ding Ding!

Later that night Bulma was getting ready for bed and grinning like a fool. She was pretty amazed at the progress she'd made on mission 1. Before he'd realized what happened, Vegeta had slipped into a relatively comfortable demeanor with her at lunch. For just a minutes he'd let her open up to him about Yamcha. Sure he hadn't exactly been sharing on his own part, but trust was a two way thing. And it was a pretty major step. She was starting to feel comfortable with moving on to her second goal. Mission 2: Get Vegeta to have Faith in her. If he believed she could truly help him they chances were better he'd let her try.

She pulled on her favorite nighty and reached for her hair brush. Everything she'd learned so far still led her to the same conclusion. Vegeta needed to relax. He was stronger now then Goku had been when he'd first turned Super Saiyan. However, it seemed that Vegeta was consuming too much of his potential energy fighting with his own Ki. All her research led her to think that his concentration levels had to be much higher to do even the simplest ki energy manipulation.

She moved into the bathroom to brush her teeth. If only there was some way to manually reset Vegeta's Ki frequency. She just needed a magic wand she could wave and... She stopped brushing mid-stroke. "Ob Co's! Why didn' ah ee id befo'?" She spit a large glob of toothpaste into the sink. "Id's so simble!" She finished rinsing and then ran into her room. She had plans to make and... she had to pack!

Bulma pulled a duffle bag from her closet and began shoving it full with various articles of clothing. After a few minutes she paused to think. "What am I going to tell Vegeta?" she wondered aloud. She didn't think he'd appreciate the genius of her plan. She was sure that he'd have some kind of issue with going about it that way, and she didn't really want to have to deal with trying to convince him otherwise. Well, she'd worry about that later. For now, she had to get everything ready.

Bulma had planned on leaving the very next morning, but putting a little more thought into her idea she realized there were some things she needed to take care of before she left. She had to talk to her father about some things at work and let him know she was going out of town for a while. She needed to draw up the blue prints for something special in her "Cure Vegeta" plot and then fax to one of the many Capsule Corps. manufacturing plants to begin construction right away. She would have to place a rather strange phone call to one of the companies many psychiatrists and hope money really could buy everything. And, last but not at all least, she needed to talk to Vegeta.

The first three things were relatively simple and she had them done by the end of the week. As for the last part, she was starting to wonder if she could put it off till she got back. Deciding to bite the bullet, she waited up for him to finish that night. Of course this was one of the nights he decided to train late.

Around 1 am Bulma finally heard the GS powering down. She was on her seventh cup of tea which she downed quickly and then walked to the sink to rinse her cup. She listened intently as the door to the outside opened and closed and then she waited. Sure enough Vegeta entered the kitchen in search of sustenance before retiring to bed. He paused only a second when he noticed her standing there and then continued on his original path. Bulma waited while he grabbed a glass of water, downed it, and got another.

Finally it seemed Vegeta's curiosity overcame his desire to ignore her completely. "What is it, Woman?" he took a sip of his second glass.

"I... I just wanted to tell you..." Bulma was still unsure how to phrase this the best possible way.

"Well, spit it out already!" Vegeta growled. "I haven't got all night, you know."

Bulma calmed her nerves and clenched her jab. Then she started again. "I may have figured out a way to fix that problem of yours."

Vegeta stared at her for a beat and then downed the rest of his water while he considered a response. He knew which problem she was referring to, but he just knew he wasn't going to like her solution. Why else would she be so nervous? Finally he spoke. "How?"

Bulma took a deep breath. "Well, I'm still working out the details, but I'm sure my idea is going to work. I've been going over everything I know about you and your past and, I think I've deduced the origin of the disruption."

Vegeta glared at her impatiently. "And what could you have possibly deduced about me, seeing as how you know almost nothing about me? I thought you said it was going to take "psychotherapy" to be able to figure that out."

"Yeah, well, at first I did, but we both know that's never going to happen." Vegeta grunted in agreement. "So I've been thinking about alternatives and... well, it just came to me." She couldn't help herself. She paused for dramatic effect. "I think the cause of the disruption was the Spirit Bomb that Goku used to defe... to almost defeat you the first time you came to Earth. From what I'm told about the Sprit Bomb it's derived from a little bit of the life energy from all the living things on the planet. Somehow you must have absorbed some of the Earths life force or... well, I'm not sure about the specifics, but that's the only thing I can think of that would be powerful enough to cause a condition like this."

The glass in Vegeta's hand exploded into a thousand little pieces. Bulma yelped as the shattering glass flew everywhere, the sound of the drinking glass's demise disrupting the otherwise silent kitchen. "So... this is Kakarrot's fault? I should have known..." Vegeta continued to squeeze his fist in anger. Bulma was sure she saw blood starting to drip down his wrist and along his arm.

"Uh... Vegeta... your hand...?" Bulma winced as she reached toward him.

"Never mind my blasted hand," Vegeta jerked away from her.

"Look, Vegeta, I know you must be upset, but, trust me, we're going to fix you. You'll be good as new in a few weeks or so, just... don't freak out on me!" She had know he would take it badly, but she hadn't expected this. Her hands had been shaking when she lowered them back to her side and she could feel her stomach starting to quiver.

"A few weeks!?" Vegeta shouted, turning his burning eyes back to her. "What could possibly make it take so long?"

Bulma whipped a now sweaty palm on her leg. "It's a very complicated process, Vegeta. I have to gather some... ingredients... from around the world to assist in the procedure. I'm leaving in the morning to start working on that part of things and I have the rest of the preparations being taken care of while I'm gone. In the mean time you can continue training and when I get back then... we'll make you better." She was not watching the blood drip off the back of his elbow and onto the floor.

"Better?" Vegeta growled and stepped towards her. "I'm never going to be "better" until I kill that son of a bitch Kakarrot. I've had to bear one humiliation after another by that 3rd class sorry excuse for a Saiyan and I refuse to let him cause me one more second of irritation. It's about time I put that fool out of his misery..." Vegeta looked towards the door. "He should never have had the ability to rise higher then a Saiyan elite and now I discover he was the very one to hamper my ascension in the first place it is... It is intolerable!" Vegeta roared and stepped towards the door.

Bulma panicked. This couldn't be going any worse! She jumped in front of Vegeta and put up her hands to stop him. "NO! Vegeta, stop!" she yelled, hoping he wouldn't just swat her like a fly.

"Get. Out. Of. My. Way." he said, the fierceness of his words was nothing to the fire in his eyes.

"Just wait, Vegeta, just listen to me for a second!" she was speaking quickly, hoping her death was just as swift. Vegeta paused, the tension in his body so intense the room nearly vibrated with it. It seemed as though she'd bought herself a few more seconds. "It's not like... It's not like Goku knew what was going to happen, right? I mean... there's no way he's smart enough to have figured out what was going to happen, and I know he's not devious enough to have planned something like that even if he had known."

Vegeta shook his head. "If you think that matters to me one little bit, you're even more stupid then you look," he sneered and started to push forward again.

Bulma stepped back, putting herself in his path one more time. "Well, I could be wrong, you know! I'm just guessing about the whole Spirit Bomb thing! I mean, it's like you said, I don't know hardly anything about you, or your past. It could be something completely different."

Vegeta paused again, a flicker of hesitation passed behind his eyes and he seemed momentarily torn. "If you weren't sure about the cause then you wouldn't think you could possibly have the cure. Why should I listen to anything you tell me? You'd say anything to save your pathetic friend..." The hurt and anger in his face tore at Bulma's heart. She couldn't be sure, but he almost sounded... betrayed. "I won't listen to anymore of your lies! Now, move!" He pushed her out of the way and walked past her.

The force of his arm knocked her against the wall next to the door and she had to grip the doorframe to keep from falling onto her backside. Pulling herself up quickly she raced after him. If he got outside, she'd never be able to stop him from flying off. Her panic increased as she turned and followed Vegeta down the hall. 'OH Kami! Please let me stop him in time!' She prayed. She realized she wasn't really afraid for Goku. She was pretty sure he could take care of himself. But that was just it. If Vegeta forced a confrontation between them would Goku be able to spare his life again? If Vegeta kept pushing eventually Goku would probably have to kill him... that thought alone pushed her to move faster then she'd ever moved before. She was in the entry way now. Across the room she saw Vegeta had reached the door. In one last ditch effort she said the only thing she could think of.

"If you go after Goku, you'll never get your cure," her voice was loud, but deceptively calm. When Vegeta's hand paused reaching for the doorknob she felt her courage growing. "I've let you into my house, my life, and I've done everything to try and help you that I know possible. But if you leave now to go kill my "pathetic" friend, as you say, then you... Then you will become my enemy once again. You can't expect me to help someone that willingly seeks out the people I love in order to destroy them. I know that's what you did before, but... things have changed. You've changed and whether you'll admit it or not, things have worked out pretty good for you. I'm offering you the one thing that can help you do the one thing you haven't been able to do on your own. The one thing that you've desired more then anything else."

It was dark in this part of the house, but Bulma could tell from his outline that Vegeta hadn't moved. Stepping farther into the room she kept talking. "I can FIX you Vegeta. I can make it possible for you to finally become a Super Saiyan, but I can't do that if you go off to kill Goku. So, go ahead, Vegeta. Go ahead and leave. Go find Goku and blast him into a million bits, but just remember that if you do that, you'll be giving up the one thing you want most in the world. The one thing I thought mattered more to you then beating "Kakarrot". It's your choice. You can speed off and pick a fight you may or may not win with someone that may or may not be responsible for what's happened to you and you can loose the one thing that's really important to you. Or..." She was standing right behind him now. "Or you can stay and let me help you. You're move."

Inside Vegeta felt as though he'd been punched in the gut. His teeth were grinding together as he tried to keep himself under control. His hand still reached halfway to the door knob. Even in the dark he could see the shadowy trail of blood running across his forearm. He stood, his entire body shaking as his thoughts raced with the Woman's words. It infuriated him that she would dare give him such an ultimatum, that she thought it mattered to him whether or not she offered her help willingly or not. It enraged him that she thought he depended on her help so much, that he was some incompetent toddler that would cease to exist with out her blessing and her assistance. And worst of all, he felt choking lividity by the fact that she was right. There was nothing more important then becoming a Super Saiyan. And if she was right... If...

"And what if you're wrong?" he hissed almost inaudibly. "What if you don't have a cure?"

Bulma stared at the Saiyan's back and felt a flicker of hope. "Then I'll keep trying to find one. As long as you're on my side, Vegeta, I'll do everything in my power to help you. I'd never give up looking. But you have to trust me on this Vegeta. Whether I'm right about the cause or not, this is going to work. My plan IS going to make you whole again. Believe me." She pleaded quietly, fighting the urge to reach out and touch him.

The very concept of putting faith in another person to help him seemed so foreign to him that his head started to pound as he tried to wrap his mind around the idea. And that made his hand hurt, too. Pushing the pain away he turned very slowly to face the source of his discomfort. "And what guarantee do I have?" He asked slowly.

Bulma's forehead creased in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"What guarantee do I have that this isn't just some kind of trick to cause me further harm? What guarantee do I have that you have my best interest in heart? If this idea of yours doesn't work, how will I know you weren't just stalling to save Kakarrot's life? And what's to stop me from just going off to kill him anyway, whether you cure me or not?" Vegeta was grasping at straws, trying to put himself back in control of the situation.

Bulma felt a stab of pain at his cold, heartless words. It seemed everything she'd done, everything she'd tried to show Vegeta about how different things could be if he wanted them to be, was for nothing. "There are no guarantees, Vegeta. That's not what trust is all about. You think you need guarantees because you see deception behind everything anyone does and says, even though most of us, here on Earth at least, have never given you any reason to think that is the case. You're so paranoid you can't even see that it's all in your head! Trusting is about looking at who a person is and what they've actually done. When someone offers you the hand of friendship and goes out of their way to give you everything you're supposed to look at that and say, yes, this is a good thing. I've given you no reason to think I was out to hurt you, none! But you can't see that, can you? You can't let yourself believe in anyone but yourself!" Bulma swallowed a sizable lump in her throat. Her eyes burned as she continued. "And that's why you're alone, Vegeta. That's why you'll always be alone." She couldn't believe in less then a weeks time she'd let Vegeta bring her to tears twice.

Vegeta couldn't believe his ears. Had the woman just said she was trying to be his "friend"? The very idea was insane. He didn't need any friends and she was a total moron if she actually thought he could be one to her. "If you really believe what you just said about trust then you will agree with me when I say that YOU should not trust ME. I'm a selfish murdering bastard who's destroyed more worlds then you can count. Enough that, if you knew, it would turn your stomach and worse. I've done nothing but kill your friends, attempt to destroy your planet, and threaten your life and well being, and yet you have the audacity to look me in the eye and tell me that you've looked at who I am and what I've done and you believe I'm trustworthy?" Vegeta laughed a harsh and bitter laugh that tore at Bulma's soul. "You're not just an idiot, you're insane. The answer is very simple. I am and always will be alone because I DESERVE to be so. Thinking otherwise is just... crazy talk."

And there it was. Laid wide out in the open for Bulma to see. She'd always kind of know, deep down that this must be how he felt, but that didn't make it any easier to take. "Everyone makes mistakes..." she began, but that just made Vegeta laugh in her face again. She forced herself to continue. "Look, Vegeta, I know it doesn't make any sense to you, but that's one of the things that separates you from me. I have faith that people can change. I believe that everyone deserves a chance to prove that, when situations change that people can change. I've seen good in you, even if you haven't been able to recognize if for yourself. And since you've been here... well sure you've been a royal pain in the ass. You're demanding, selfish, rude, and constantly grumpy. You eat all my food and break all the things I make for you to help train and you never once said thank you. You take up a lot of my time with making you newer better toys to play with and you've never once said your sorry for irritating the crap out of me and picking fights with me and generally just trying to make my life miserable... But you know what? None of that matters to me. I realize that most of that is just the way you are, and that will probably never change. What matters to me is the fact that you've been living here for months now and you haven't killed a single person. Even when my dad couldn't fix you're bots right away, and when my mother babied you and babbled on and on to you about stupid human things, you just said something smarmy and let it go. Even when I annoyed the crap out of you and picked fights with you and made your life miserable..." she let that hang. "The truth is, before you came here you wouldn't have hesitated to blast anyone you thought was the least bit irritating. But you've changed. On Namek you could have killed Krillin and I after we gave you our dragonball, but you didn't. And after we wished you back you were the one that helped us figure out how to wish Krillin back. And now you're doing all this training to help us fight the androids! Can't you see? You're still an asshole. Probably always will be, but you're still one of the good guys now!"

Vegeta shook his head and walked around Bulma, back into the middle of the entry way. "Enough. You're so deluded you actually believe what you're saying." He stood in the center of the room, his back to her and fought against her every word. "I'm not different. I'm opportunistic. I've just been using you all to achieve my own evil ends, and when I have no more use for you, then you will see how just like my "old self" I can be."

"I don't believe you." Bulma said boldly. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see, when that day arrives, which one of us was right." And with that she walked past him and back into the hallway.

"Yes, we will," Vegeta said. And Bulma felt a shiver in her spine. If she was wrong about Vegeta, they would all pay dearly. She just prayed she was right.

Bulma had returned to the kitchen to clean up the broken glass. After a while she'd thought she'd heard Vegeta go upstairs and sighed in relief that he'd given in. For now. With the mess cleaned up she'd retired to her room where she laid in bed, completely awake, until morning. She climbed from bed when her alarm went off a 7, showered, and dressed quickly. Outside she was relieved to find Vegeta was already inside, probably beating himself to a bloody pulp and convincing himself that Bulma was nothing but a deluded lunatic and what she'd said last night was nothing but insane human dribble. For the first time she wondered if what she was trying to do was even possible. If trying to help Vegeta was a lost cause then doing so would only result in pain and probably death for all she loved.

"Well," she muttered as she gathered her pre-packed capsules and slid them into her capsule belt, "It's too late to turn back now." She ate a quick breakfast and then hugged her parents good-bye.

If she didn't go ahead as planned Vegeta would figure she'd just been lying the whole time and go off and try to kill Goku anyway. And get himself killed in the process.

Wouldn't they all be better off, then?

She let herself consider that thought for about 2.7 milliseconds. She believed everything she'd told Vegeta. She knew she was right and she knew he was just too stubborn to admit it. Well, she was going to make him see. Somehow she'd get it through his thick monkey skull that they were on the same side now. Like it or not he was one of them.

She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and removed a capsule from her belt. With a quick click on the button she tossed it to her left. Her motorbike appeared with a puff of smoke and she climbed onto it feeling the first pangs of excitement. 'Adventure time!' she thought with a smile. 'And when I get back... I'll show him. I'm right, Dammit! I have to be.' And with that she drove off into the rising sun. Never once did she stop to wonder why Vegeta had suddenly become so important to her.

(So... what has Bulma got planned? Find out in our next exciting installment of Project: Vegeta!)


	6. Have a Nice Trip

1

A/N: Okay people, work with me here. This chapter make confuse some of you, but just go with me on this, it'll all make sense in time. More cussing and some nudity and dirty thoughts. And drug usage. What every good fic needs, right?

Disclaimer: Things I'm thankful for: Cookie dough, Matt Damon, fabric softener, free anit-spyware downloads, TP, my roommates pug Mocha, and Akira Toriyama for creating these wonderful characters that I don't own but take many liberties in twisting to my will. Oh, and for my faithful readers, especially those of you that review. (Cough cough) ;) Happy T-Day!

Chapter 6:

Have a Nice Trip

For the next couple of months Vegeta worked even harder. It seemed he was punishing himself, although if he'd been asked why, he would never have been able to explain. Part of his new found passion came from the fact that anytime he stopped moving and stopped hurting, he started thinking. And thinking was so not what he wanted to be doing. He refused to think about that night, about what that damnedable Woman had said. Every time his mind wandered to it against his will he found himself swarmed by a hundred conflicting emotions. Since he had neither the desire nor the ability to deal with those feelings he shut himself off and became a walking, fighting, eating zombie. He ignored any attempt at contact made by Dr. Briefs or his wife. After a little time his mind stopped trying to slip into unwanted territory.

Nine weeks into this mind-numbing routine, Vegeta felt himself growing... bored. He had reached a plateau in his training. 750 g's seemed to be his maximum, despite his many attempts to go higher. Every time he did he nearly found himself eating ki-absorbing sheet metal. It was such a damned inconvenience, this waiting. As soon as the woman returned and fixed him he would be able to ascend and reach the next level of his training.

He believed her attempts to cure him were genuine. He hadn't been able to figure out a motivation she might have had to the contrary. It was just too much hassle for something other then what she said it was. It didn't make him wrong about her being delusional and incredibly naive, but he wasn't going to refuse her assistance in this matter. He'd come to deal with the fact that the chances of him figuring out how to fix himself were dismally minimal. He had no choice. There was only one thing that mattered above all and he wasn't going to let some insignificant Earth woman stand between him and his goal.

An insignificant and still absent Earth woman. As they neared the end of the third month he began to wonder if maybe she hadn't just wised up and taken off. Not that he couldn't hunt her down if he wanted to, but he still had a certain amount of pride when it came to seeking out help. If it came to him, fine, otherwise, forget it. He didn't need anyone, didn't depend on anyway. From time to time he did catch himself wishing he had someone to argue with. Not that blasted woman, of course, but someone. Nappa maybe, or Radditz. Even when he'd been out in the middle of nowhere on a purging mission, he'd never been alone. There had always been someone to bully around and pick at. Each time those thoughts started up, he'd follow them immediately with thoughts of how this despicable planet was making him soft in the head. It was beneath him to require the company of others. It only renewed his determination to get on with the plan so he could leave.

Step one of Vegeta's Plan: Fix the problem with his fucking Ki.

Step two of Vegeta's Plan: Become a Super Saiyan.

Step three: Defeat the androids.

Step four: Kill that scumbag, Kakarrot

Step five: Get the hell off this disgusting hunk of space waste (and possibly blast it into oblivion...?)

And after that... he wasn't sure. Now that he actually had time to think about it, he realized he wasn't sure what came next. He'd spent his whole life following orders. After his five step plan was accomplished his future held a vast void. Well, he wasn't going to think about that now. He was sure when the time arrived he would be able to come up with something.

And then, just like that, the Woman was back.

The three months it had taken Bulma to hunt down the "ingredients" crucial to her plan had been both exhausting and renewing. Time away from the prideful, arrogant prince had been refreshing. And the fun she'd had! Whether she'd admit it herself or not, Bulma was a bonafide thrill-seeker at heart. She liked a challenge and she like them to be dangerous. That was probably why she'd grown bored with Yamcha. She'd tamed him utterly and completely and he held no interest for her any longer. If she'd stopped to think about it she might have even discovered that it was the reason behind her little Vegeta project.

After she'd claimed the final item she had reluctantly headed for home. As tired and dirty and battered and bruised as she was, she'd been thoroughly enjoying herself. She didn't want this time to end. Sure she'd been a bit lonely, racing from one end of the globe to the other by herself, but... Well, it wasn't like she had anyone to share it with anyway. No boyfriend to drag along and all her friends were busy training for the androids.

As she neared the Capsule Corps compound she decided to swing by one last stop. She'd been in communication with a very helpful Dr. Regina Tashaito. The good doctor had helped Bulma fine tune her latest creation and work out some of the kinks in the best approach to dealing with a formerly homicidal maniac. Most importantly she'd provided Bulma with a custom prescription to help ease through the process. In return, Bulma had given Dr. Tashaito access to limitless research funding at the University or hospital of her choice. It seemed money really could buy anything.

With one last stop at the Capsule Corps Pharmaceuticals plant Bulma headed home. She pulled into the driveway on her motorbike and climbed off slowly. It seemed things were just as she'd left them. Her mother's garden was blooming, her father's lab had smoke pouring from the windows, probably from some failed experiment, and the Gravity Simulator was running at full power. She smiled and grabbed her brown paper wrapped package from the back of the bike. Her boots crunched as she strode across the gravel and fell silent when she hit the grass. She walked inside, calling out that she was home as she entered. Only quiet greeted her from inside the house. Her parents must be out. Dad was probably in his lab working on damage control and her mother was likely scooping out a new bakery of pastry shop.

Bulma moved into the kitchen where she got herself a nice, cool glass of filtered water and sliced an apple to eat with peanut butter. Taking her treat to the table she sketched out her legs on the chair across the way, sighed with pleasure, and proceeded to relax. At which point she looked up and found Vegeta scowling in the doorway. 'So much for that moment of peace...' she thought, dipping into the peanut butter with her first apple slice.

"It's about time," Vegeta growled quietly.

Bulma smiled as she chewed. "What's the matter Vegeta? Did you miss me or something?" she said after she'd swallowed.

"As if..." he grunted refusing to respond to her nonsense. He stepped into the room and picked up the package she'd set on the counter.

"Careful, Vegeta. That right there is the key to restoring you to all your natural glory. If you damage it, it would be a while before I could get a replacement. And I think we both know you'd really rather not wait any longer." She was fibbing a little about the replacement. It might take hours to get a new batch of juice ready now that they had the formula worked out. But she wasn't about to tell him that.

"I take it you found what you were looking for?" he raised his eyebrow in question. Bulma noticed that he also set the package down, slowly and carefully.

"Of course! Where there ever any doubts?" she was in such a good mood, she wasn't sure even grouchy Vegeta could bring her down. Vegeta narrowed his eyes and ignored her question. "We can get started as soon as I check out the mechanical half of this endeavor. Oh, and take a shower."

"Well, I'd tell you just to get on with it, but I think you're right about that shower. How do you think I knew you were back? I could smell you coming a mile away." Vegeta smirked. And no, he wasn't going to admit he was glad to have someone to harass again.

"No doubt!" Bulma laughed. "I'm almost as bad as you were when you got back from space." Emphasis on almost. She'd forgotten how much fun it was to verbally joust with someone who was as witty and creative as herself. She had finished her apples and downed her water. Standing, she reached around Vegeta for the pharmaceuticals package. "I'll call you when I'm ready," she said cordially. "Run along and go play now."

Vegeta smirked. "Unlike some weakling females, the Prince of all Saiyans has better things to do then "play". Some of us actually spend the majority of our time working and being productive, but you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?" he followed her out into the hallway. "I certainly hope you enjoyed your little vacation. Now it's back to business. Hurry up, Woman. I've already been more then patient with you and your antics."

"Chill out, Vegeta. You'll be better in no time. Trust me!" and with one last wink in his direction she sprinted up the stairs to shower and change. And make a couple quick phone calls.

"You want me to WHAT?!" Vegeta roared starting at the open doors to the woman's now ready machine.

"Don't make a big thing of this, Vegeta. Do you want to get better or don't you?" Bulma had one hand on her hip and the other was pointing to his training shorts. "There can't be anything that might interfere with the reharmonization process." When Vegeta further hesitated she threw up her hands. "Look, it's not like you've got anything I haven't seen before."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, Woman," Vegeta said with a cocky smirk, hoping to throw the woman off and gain the upper hand.

Bulma just laughed and rolled her eyes. "Oh puh-lez! You mean you've got a superiority complex about that, too? What a shocker!" she said sarcastically. "Look, it's not as if I WANT to see you in all your birthday suit glory, but there's really no point in arguing this. There's no way around it, I'm afraid."

"I'm sure that a vulgar woman such as yourself has put all possible thought into this situation," he was not going to let her win this one.

"Whatever, Vegeta. I'll turn around while you finish disrobing if it will make you feel better." She laughed as she turned her back on him. "You're a lot of things, Vegeta, but I never figured that modest would be one of them."

"I just don't relish the thought of being ogled by you, Woman. Not all of us are voyeurs of the basest kind." Bulma was pleased to hear the quiet rustle of clothing, despite his protests. "Just because you enjoy showing off every inch of your pasty flesh doesn't mean that everyone feels the same way."

"Are you done yet?" she asked impatiently.

"Yes," Vegeta said, keeping his voice firm and confident. "What now?"

Bulma resisted the urge to turn around, but only because she wanted to screw with him. But not screw with him, screw with him, just... because she enjoyed giving him a hard time. No, that didn't sound right. She just liked teasing him. Or... oh, fuck it, never mind.

"Just climb into the water," she finally said out loud. The faint sounds of splashing were followed by a few choice curses and finally she figured it was okay for her to turn around. For a fraction of a second the sight before her made her pause. He was standing in a large tank set about four feet into the ground. There were steps leading into the water and a set of doors that closed like cellar doors over the top of the steps. The bottom of the tank held three and a half feet of salt water that sloshed back and forth with Vegetga's movement. Fully naked, Vegeta was standing in the waist high water, his backside to her. She let herself appraise the image for another second , tilting her head and raising an appreciative eyebrow. Then she shook her head and went back to work.

"So, next I'm going to have to give you a shot." She grabbed the pharmaceuticals package off the table and unwrapped it slowly. Inside was a small box. She flipped open the lid carefully and revealed the ready made syringe tucked neatly into black foam padding. The liquid inside was mostly clear with a slightly blue tinge of color and an iridescence that increased when held up to the light.

"What is that for?" Vegeta turned around slowly, but stayed out of reach. Bulma was surprised she actually had to force herself to look at his face.

"It's just a sedative," with a few bonus extras, she added in her head. "To help you relax and make the treatment more effective." She indicated that he should come closer. "After I give this to you, you're going to want to lie back pretty quickly. The salt in the water will help you float. Then I'm going to close the doors. Now, just so you know, it will be completely dark, and silent. After I turn on the machine you may feel some vibrations, then again you might not. I'm going to start transmitting at the level your ki is currently at. After a few minutes the machine is set to slow the vibrations just a tiny bit. Now, I'll be monitoring your vitals with the diodes that I already attached to your chest and back. If anything goes wrong, I'll raise the frequency again and give it some more time. If my calculations are correct, slowly lowering the broadcast frequency SHOULD cause yours to adjust as well." She finished explaining.

"If? Should?" Vegeta sneered. "It sounds like you aren't a hundred percent positive. This whole thing wouldn't be dangerous to my health, would it? Cause if you're wrong... I'd hate for things to go badly for us both." No veil on that threat.

"To answer your question," Bulma started, pointedly ignoring his manly posturing, "no, I'm not a one hundred percent on this, but I'm still, like... ninety eight point seven percent sure. And is it risky? Sure, you bet. Anything worth it has to be, right?" When Vegeta refused to come closer she rolled her eyes and kicked off her shoes. She stepped down into the water a couple of steps getting close enough to reach Vegeta. Holding out the syringe she looked him in the eyes one last time. "If you aren't sure about this, Vegeta, then we can stop right now. Is that what you want?" Her voice was soft. She waited patiently as the water lapped around her thighs. Thank goodness she'd had enough foresight to wear a pair or shorts. One more step and she'd be waist deep in the water with Vegeta... she was hoping she didn't have to take that last step.

After what seemed like several minutes, Vegeta took a step towards her and held out his arm. "Do it." He watched her face every second as she nodded and then put the needle up to his skin. He hissed as the solution entered his veins. It burned just a bit, and as such he could feel it's progress as it started to spread into his body. Bulma stepped back and nodded to him. "What am I supposed to do while I'm waiting for my frequency to adjust?" He was pumping his fist slightly, the burning moved into his shoulder and back.

The smallest of smiles touched one side of Bulma's mouth. "I don't know, Vegeta." she turned and walked up the steps, water running down her smooth legs in tiny rivets. "Try some meditation." She turned to close the doors. "You're going to want to lay down now." She smiled at him slyly.

"Meditation?" Vegeta asked, ignoring her recommendation. "How will that be produ...uuh!" His words slurred and he felt his knees buckle. The burning had just hit his spine and was quickly shooting into his brain and lower extremities. A weakness like none he'd ever felt overtook him and he fell backwards. He was suddenly on his back, whether he wanted to be or not, only the water's buoyancy kept him above the surface. He was so much dead weight. His vision was starting to haze around the edges. As he forced his eyes towards the doorway he saw Bulma, her face surrounded by a rainbow colored halo.

"Good night, Vegeta. Sweet Dreams..." she blew him a kiss and closed the doors.

Plunged into darkness Vegeta floated, suspended and completely at the blue-haired Woman's mercy.

Bulma walked through the lower levels of the house, her capsule belt in her hand. Moving swiftly she walked to the other side of the house, away from Vegeta's souped up sensory deprivation tank and into the yard on the far side of the compound. According to their calculations she had about an hour before the sedative wore off. The carefully planned cocktail of ketamine, etorphine hydrochloride, and a number of other animal tranquilizers in that syringe to put under a dozen gorillias, that mixed carefully with a healthy dose of lysergic acid diethylamide, should keep Vegeta not only busy for the time being, but give him and experience he would be able to believe had fixed him.

Pulling out one of the smaller capsules very carefully she pressed the button and set it on the ground. She stepped back an instant before it disappeared in a puff of smoke. When the air cleared she smiled down at the seven small orbs.

Vegeta felt very heavy, and yet, at the same time, weightless. Floating in 300 g's. He knew he should be feeling something. Rage at his helplessness, fear for his life, betrayal that the Woman had put him here and vengeance towards her for doing so. But instead he felt NOTHING. Any attempt to conjure up the emotions he logically knew he should be feeling all resulted in a spastic mental fog. He tried to adjust his eyes to the darkness, tried to listen for any sound. After the door had shut and the water had stilled there had been nothing. His mind tried to fill in the void with strange shadows and buzzing static, but even those didn't last. As the burning in his veins faded into numbness he stopped attempting to make sense of his surroundings. He just didn't care anymore. His eyes drifted shut and he gave in to the nothingness.

For a while he seemed to drift in and out of consciousness, although both in and out were essentially the same. And then time stopped meaning anything either.

He rolled onto his side, the silk of the sheets sliding along his body in a very pleasant way. The light from the window danced through the blinds and created a pseudo-mosaic pattern on her soft, pale back. He reached out and touched it gently, brushing his fingers across the underlying valley of her spine. He felt her shiver lightly under his caress. He watched in wonder as she turned her face, looking over her shoulder at him. The slow curve of her smile made his heartbeat accelerate. Raising his hand in a smooth controlled arc he lightly pressed the back of his hand to her cheek. The softness of her skin was almost liquid.

As the vibrations began he felt the water climb a bit higher on his body. He felt elation overcome him as the sensation of the water running into his left ear canal sent a jolt of FEELING something. It was a treasure in the midst of so much nothing. He clung to it. His mind focused on that one very ordinary sensation, that tickling filling tingle. But slowly he adjusted to it. The vibrations had an even further numbing sensation, they sedated his nervous system into nothingness again.

He could have been falling. Falling forever through the vacuum of space. No light, no warmth, no cold, no color.

Sliding his hand around to cup her jaw he moved closer. His body soon pressed to hers from his collar bone to his toes. He was mesmerized by the pink of her lips. His thumb moved over it as if it could pick up some of that color, like transfer. And indeed the pink seemed to be catching. It slid over his thumb, across his palm, down his arm. He lowered his hand, brushing her shoulder and her hip. And the pink continued to spread.

"But my hand..." He looked down at the chunk of glass protruding from his palm. That had been such a pain to remove. It had bled everywhere. After fighting with the woman he'd almost left the mess for her to clean up out of spite. He'd bandaged it quickly and then cleaned the mess up with one of her mother's decorative towels instead. It had made him feel better. A little, anyway.

His foot brushed against the side of the tank. His mind, again, grabbed onto the sensory input like a greedy, starving child. It was cold And hard. He could almost summon the energy to push against it, but he didn't want to loose it. He was so very tired. Then the selfish water claimed him again, pulling him from his newly discovered friend.

"You have to wake up now, Prince Vegeta."

Vegeta rolled over in his bunk and sat up slowly. Dedoria's form stood outlined against the doorway. "Lights on," Vegeta growled. And they had come on. Only Vegeta sill couldn't see. Which was not the way it had happened. "What is it?" He asked, just like he had the first time this happened.

"We just got word that Vagetasei was destroyed by a meteor shower. Even though Vegeta couldn't see his face now, he remembered the look on Dedoria's face. It had been mocking him. Telling him that it was all a lie and he didn't care if Vegeta knew it.

(And he didn't care if his skin felt crusty, either. Nobody cared about salty skin.)

"Frieza said you are supposed to take Nappa and Radditz out. Planet Mochar, Quadrant 12. It's a level 3 Purge. You report for deployment in 20 minutes. Have a nice trip!"

He licked the delicate place where her shoulder a neck joined. There was only the lightest trace of sweat. (He wasn't sure why he'd be so concerned about the SALT.)

His chest vibrated lightly from her moan. Her pink and red moan. It swam across the room and played with the yellow from the sunlight. Soon he was surrounded by tones of orange and salmon. But he liked the pink of her lips the most. The way it now touched them both. He slid his arm around her stomach and pulled her closer. She smelled like blue and green.

(And SALT.)

So much salt. It stung. And burned. Filling his veins with fire.

He fought the pain. He wanted the nothing.

He held her tight. He would lose her soon. The sun would rise higher and melt them both. He buried his face in her hair.

"Why can't I stay?" she whispered, her voice hollow and distant. Vegeta's arms pulled her tighter against him, squeezing her, trying to make her a part of him. And she screamed. His arms tightened harder. He heard her breaking.

"It could never work," he whimpered into her hair. She exploded in his arms turning to

(SALT)

ash right before his eyes.

The burning. He wondered how long it would take for him to

(explode)

simply die from the pain. It consumed him, drawing him deeper into himself.

Everything fell back into place.


	7. 3rd Mission: Impossible?

A/N: Another Week, another Chapter. Thanks again to all of you that have reviewed or added me to your favorites. You are the reason I write. This chapter is kind of an inbetweener, but fear not, we're getting to the good stuff. Now, on with the show.

Disclaimer: The events in the following are true. The names have been changed to protect the innocent. Okay, we all know that's not true. The characters are the property of Mr. Toriyama and a bunch of other lucky bastards. The events were just made up by some twisted weirdo. Namely Me.

Chapter 7:

3rd Mission: Impossible?

Clarity. In a split second everything changed, and Vegeta slid back, realigned. He was floating in a tank of salt water, and he could feel the effects of the injection receding, burning as they faded. The scent of the water stung his eyes. He could feel some of it dried on his skin. And he could stand.

The darkness was suddenly slpit by a blinding light and the creak of heavy metal being moved. He squinted his eyes as he rose from the water, standing on his feet cautiously. Above him, in the doorway he could see a shadowy outline.

"Vegeta?" a voice asked gently and he thought that it sounded odd. He couldn't help but turn his head and put a hand over his eyes. "Take it slowly. Careful. You're going to be fine." He tried to look again, shielding his eyes from the painful light with his hand this time.

Bulma watched Vegeta squint up at her and struggle to get his bearings. She couldn't even imagine how he must be feeling right now. She stepped down into the water and looked him over. "Vegeta, can you hear me? Are you okay?

Vegeta listen to the question, sounds and images coming together, making sense, forming words and... "Don be s-s-s-stupid, Woman. Of cours-s-s-se I'm not okay. You tried to k-k-kill m-me!" His lips felt like putty. Her face came into focus. She looked worried.

"I didn't try to kill you, Vegeta. I fixed you. Come on, lets get you out of here." He registered the pressure of her hand as it wrapped around his arm. She led him up the stairs. He let her. Once outside, on dry ground, she helped him into some kind of garment. It's softness seemed very foreign to him. He still felt a little stunned.

Bulma tide the robe closed for him and then began double checking his vitals. Pulse was sluggish. Which was to be expected. Pupil dilation was only slightly delayed. His skin felt cool to the touch and a bit gritty from the water. It was all as she'd predicted. Looking into his face she studied him for a second. "How are you feeling now?"

Vegeta forced himself to get it together. He still felt drowsy and light headed. He recalled why he'd undergone that little bit of hell. "How long was I in there?" he asked, the words forming normally.

"Only a couple of hours. Things went really well. I think... well, I think it worked." She sat on the edge of a tall stool. He looked around the room, grateful when the lab and everything in it made sense to him.

"How will we know?" he squeezed a fist.

Bulma shrugged. "As soon as you're feeling better, I'll just, you know, scan you, like I did last time."

Vegeta looked at her sharply. "I'm feeling better now," the last word came out almost a growl.

Bulma's look of concern deepened. "Are you sure, Vegeta? You should probably give it a few. That was quite an ordeal. I can't even imagine..." her voice drifted into nothing at the look Vegeta gave her. "Okay, I'll get the scouter." She tried to remain calm. She walked around the desk and pulled the head piece from the drawer. She'd made sure she'd remember she'd put it this time. "Lets go outside."

Vegeta led the way, his back straight despite the fact that he still felt as if parts of him were made of jell-O. If Bulma noticed him walking funny she didn't say anything. Once outside she put the scouter on and nodded to a patch of bushes. "Let's see what you got."

Vegeta raised a hand, aimed, and fired.

The scouter beeped, the reading filling across the screen. It was a very long few seconds for both of them.

"33.7 exactly," Bulma whispered. "Woo hoo! We did it!" She screeched, jumping up and down. "We did it, Vegeta!" She grabbed his shoulders as she continued jumping up and down. "Isn't it just amazing!?" She smiled and stopped jumping.

"Don't touch me," he said feeling uncomfortable with the entire situation.

"OH, sorry!" She gasped, pulling her arms back as if she suddenly realized she was petting a venomous snake. Her smile faded for only a second, but it wouldn't stay away for long. "But aren't you excited? This means you'll be able to go Super Saiyan now!" She kept smiling at him, searching his face for any kind of response.

Vegeta couldn't put a finger on how he was feeling. He just felt different. Less angry but still confused. He could feel more of his strength returning, and with it a new intensity of power at his core. Something that burned brighter then before, as if he were now more alive then ever. He looked down at his hand, suddenly eager to test the limits of this strange new power. Without a word he turned and walked as quickly as he could manage. Every step was stronger, surer. In seconds he was back in the lab, looking around for his clothes. His training shorts were folded neatly on one of the desks. He untied the belted garment and reached out for them.

Bulma had followed Vegeta back into the lab. She'd barely had time to register that the robe was coming off in time to turn around before he was exposed completely. "What are you doing, Vegeta?" she was blushing a little now and wondered what had happened to his modesty.

"What does it look like I'm doing, Woman? I am going back to work." He was dressed quickly and started for the door.

"But, are you sure that's a good idea? Maybe you should just, take it easy for a few minutes?" Bulma was worried about the side effects her little cocktail might have on him and was hoping to keep a close eye on him.

"I didn't allow you to put me through such a heinously uncomfortable process so that I could take it easy, now did I?" He sneered as he ripped the wireless diodes off his chest. Then he was out the door headed for the Gravity Simulator.

Bulma chased after him. She was pretty sure there was nothing she could say or do to change his mind, but she was still worried. "Okay, but, just... don't overdo it, okay?" She caught up to him as he was waiting for the door to open on 2.1. She reached up and pulled the diode off his back.

He looked at her surprised by her assistance. He had expected much more resistance. Then he turned and walked inside. With one final smirk he turned to her as the door was closing. "Would I do that?" he asked her with a gleam in his eye.

After the door was closed Bulma stood there, waiting to hear it power on. "Yes, in a heartbeat," she whispered. When the familiar whirl of electronics kicked on she returned to the house. She needed to call Goku and let him know it was okay for her parents to come back. She'd called him before and asked him to Instant Transmission them to his house for a while. She didn't want her mother and father accidentally saying something about the Dragon's summoning to Vegeta. As far as they knew they'd been invited to lunch by Chi Chi and that was it.

She had to explain a little bit to Goku about what she was doing. He knew she was going to make a wish. And he knew she wanted her parents away while she conducted an experiment to help Vegeta. He'd even smiled a bit when she'd told him about that part. She was relieved that he was okay with it. She didn't know what she would have done if he'd refused to help her because of Vegeta. She should have know he would be fine with it, though. That was just the way Goku was. He wanted to help everyone.

An hour later her parents were back and Goku had returned to his training. It seemed everything was going to go back to normal. For everyone.

For the next few days Vegeta holed himself up in the GS again, not coming out for food or sleep or anything. After the second day Bulma had taken it upon herself to take food to him. He accepted it quietly and then shut the door in her face, going right back to work. His face had been a total blank.

Bulma told herself that he must be dealing with some pretty intense stuff and forced herself to let him do things his way. She went back to work on some new things that had come up with her dad. She helped him as much as she could, but her heart just wasn't in it.

A week later Vegeta pulled himself away from the GS and shuffled into the house. He went to the kitchen for food and ate in silence. Bulma noticed the silence of the simulator and went to the kitchen to investigate. She entered cautiously.

"Hey, Vegeta? How are things going?" she made herself sound casual, but interested. She was met with a paralyzing glare. The rage that burned behind Vegeta's eyes belied the blank expression on his face. She froze. She'd seen that look before. It was not a good sign. "What?" she asked, fear creeping into her voice. "What's wrong?"

"Why would anything be wrong?" Vegeta spat as he stood. "Everything is just fine. After all, you fixed me, right?" The bitterness stung Bulma's ears. And then he was gone, up to his room to sleep. Bulma didn't dare follow.

And on it went. Vegeta had at least started coming in at night to sleep, and he was eating at least two meals a day, but he just seemed to be so angry all the time. Getting angrier by the day. His strength had increased slightly at first and he'd been able to increase his training to 800 G's, but then he had quickly plateaued again. He had also failed to ascend. Still.

After everything the Woman had told him about his condition and the way it had limited him he'd actually begun to hope that it was really going to be as simple as a quick cure. He couldn't believe he'd let himself be deceived by that lying imbecile of a woman. It was clear that she didn't really know anything about him, or the Saiyan race. He found it hard to believe that she considered one her best friend and yet knew so little about them. Stupid bitch.

Day after day he pushed and pushed and nothing. It seemed even closer now then ever before, and yet still so far away. And he was losing patience. Everyday that he beat himself to a pulp he grew more and more exhausted. Physically, mentally, emotionally he was draining slowly.

Bulma watched Vegeta's suffering increase. She was sure it was because he still hadn't become a super saiyan. She ached inside at his pain and she yearned for a way to help. There didn't seem to be anything she could do. Any attempt she made to get close to him, or do anything for him was met with a progressively colder resistance.

It seemed that, not only was mission 3 becoming more and more impossible, but missions 1 and 2 were quickly unraveling with each passing day. Mission 3 was get Vegeta to smile. Not smirk, not grin his evil grin. Truly smile. Bulma's hope that such a thing were even possible was fading rapidly. She had always been one to thrive against impossible odds, but this seemed beyond even her. The only person that could possibly help Vegeta with his quest was the one guy that Vegeta would never ever go to for help. If it weren't for his damned pride! She'd never met anyone more egotistical, stubborn, stuck-up...

The only way Vegeta would do anything was if it looked like his own idea. There had to be someway to get him the information he needed and still let him save face. She smiled as an idea began to form in her head.

Vegeta felt himself giving out and decided to call it a night. His muscles ached, his head hurt, and his stomach was empty. He powered down the GS and headed for the kitchen. As he walked down the darkened hallway he heard a voice. The Woman was apparently in the kitchen, and she was talking to someone. He couldn't sense any other power source. She was probably talking on the phone again, it was something she did quite frequently. He would have barged into the kitchen to fulfill his sustenance needs and simply ignored the Woman as he'd taken to doing lately, but her next statement stopped him in his tracks.

"I know, Goku. It scares me a little how grumpy he's gotten. I mean, with Vegeta, grumpy is relative, but lately he's been really bad." Her voice sounded... concerned. Probably for her own life. He couldn't believe she was discussing him with that fool Kakarrot. "I don't even know what it is that's crawled up his ass this time, either. I've given him Kami-knows everything he could ask for. What has he got to be so fucking upset about?"

He felt the urge to run in there and strangle her, bashing her head into the wall and scream into her face just what he was so fucking upset about, but he forced himself to stay hidden and listen.

"And I think he's really overdoing it with the training, too. I mean you never trained like that! You've always known that food and rest are just as important as the training and exercise. You've always been the strongest person I know. How do you do it, Goku?"

Vegeta wanted to scoff. That scum Kakarrot wouldn't know the first thing about real training. He'd lost all his Saiyan conditioning when he'd hit his head as a child. He'd only ever done things the weak, pathetic human way. He didn't know any better. He...

"Soothing hot baths and Massage?" Bulma asked. "I know I love a good long soak, but Massage? Is it really that great for you?" Vegeta stopped his mental ranting. What was this thing, Massage? He'd never heard of it before. Bulma continued after pausing to listen for several minutes. "Really? Wow, I would have never guess it could do so much to rejuvenate sore and tired muscles and rebuild tissue after a good work out. And the circulation enhancement. That's really amazing, Goku." Bulma paused momentarily and then laughed. "I think you're right about that, Goku. It's too bad Vegeta would never have the guts to try it. I'm sure it'd help him immensely. Well, that just makes it easier for you to stay on top of the list of Universe's Strongest Warriors."

Vegeta was fuming again. They were laughing at him! How dare they?! Who did she think she was, that Woman, discussing him with his greatest enemy, and all. And she talked about trust and friendship. He'd been right to think it was all a load of bullshit.

"You know, Goku, honestly, I'd do anything to help Vegeta. He's just too prideful to accept help from anyone. I've tried to let him know that I would be his friend, if only he'd let me. Deep down inside I don't think that he really wants to be alone. I'm just not sure he knows how to care about anyone other then himself. And he just pushes me away. I suppose I'll have to stop trying eventually. I don't want to make him hate me. And I certainly never intended to do anything but enable him to reach his goal. I just don't know what else to do."

Vegeta listened, not sure what to think now. "No, I know he doesn't need me. Given enough time he can do anything. I see what a powerful, prideful prince he is, and I know he can be so much more. I just don't want anyone to be that alone. It doesn't have to be that way. But you're right. I should just get out of his way. I'm sure I'm just a nescience to him."

'At last!' Vegeta thought, but part of him heard the sadness in her voice and it... it didn't make him feel good. Could it be that the Woman had been sincere this entire time. For whatever reason she honestly seemed to care about him and his success. It was madness. Obviously a sign of her infinite weakness.

"Well, thanks for letting me talk to you, Goku. Good luck with your own training. We're going to need everything we've got for those androids. Okay. You, too. Good night." she hung up and then sighed.

Vegeta listened for the sound of her movement and then hid himself in the shadows of the dark hallway. Bulma walked slowly out of the kitchen and then headed for the stairs. Once she was out of sight Vegeta continued on his way to the kitchen. Again he found his thoughts and emotions conflicted. He hated that the Woman made him feel this way. She should be nothing to him but a means to train and supply him with food. And yet, the fact that she seemed to be concerned with him made him pause. It made something in his chest stir. Such a strange sensation he'd never experienced before. And he was at a complete lack of knowledge on how to deal with this new development. He ate quickly and then retired to his room. To think.

(Next Chapter: We'll find out if Bulma's newest shenanigans work out the way she hoped...)


	8. V is for Victory?

A/N: I thought I'd get this one up and out of the way. Hope you enjoy it. It was majorly fun to write. Cheers!

Disclaimer: All I want for Christmas is Vegeta. Cause I don't own him. Yet.

Chapter 8:

V is for... Victory?

After a few more days Bulma began to think Vegeta wasn't going to fall for her little trick. She'd laid it on pretty thick, but that's because subtlety wasn't exactly the Saiyan's strong suit. She made a point to stay out of his way and not bother him. Then, on the fourth day after her "conversation" with Goku she found Vegeta sitting the kitchen. It wouldn't be weird in and of itself, but it was 9:30 in the morning. Vegeta usually had 4 or 5 hours of training under his belt by that time. And on top of that he was sipping coffee doing a sudoku puzzle. Bulma nearly fell on her face.

"Good morning, Vegeta" Bulma said, sure that maybe she was seeing things. She pretended to rub the sleep out of her eyes. When she moved her hands he was still there. He grunted quietly, but otherwise kept working on the puzzle. She poured herself a cup of coffee, adding sugar and cream the way she liked it and then sat across from him. "What are you doing, Vegeta?" She said as she yawned.

Vegeta stayed focused on his page. "I'm training." He answered her simply.

"Really?" Bulma asked. "That doesn't look like any kind of training I've ever seen..." she took a large swallow of her coffee savoring the feeling of it's heat permeating her mouth and throat and stomach.

"That's because you are a pitiable excuse for a sentient being." Vegeta smirked, finally looking up. "Any true warrior knows when it's time to rest his body and focus on his mind. By figuring out the order of these numbers in all these little squares it will help to sharpen my logic and reasoning skills, which will in turn make me a better strategist on and off the battle field. Plus, I find the challenge intriguing."

"So... you're giving the Simulator a rest today, I take it?" She kept her tone light and continued sipping coffee.

"Yes, not that that is any of your business." he continued to work the puzzle. Bulma was surprised to see the swiftness with which he was moving through it.

"Well, good." Bulma said swirling the contents of her mug. "It's about time you decided to take a break. You put your body through way too much, I think."

"I know this may come as a shock to you, Woman, but I don't actually care what you think." He was working on the last box of 9.

"Right, how could I forget," Bulma rolled her eyes, but inside she was smirking right back at him. When Vegeta finished that puzzle he set the book he'd been doing it out of on the table and leaned back to stretch. Bulma noticed a couple of things. Instead of his usual training uniform, Vegeta was wearing black athletic pants with white racer strips on both sides and a white tank top. And when he pulled his arms back straight over his head like that all of his muscles seemed to bulge in all the right places in his chest and stomach. She shook her head, wondering where that thought had come from, and where he'd gotten the clothes. Then she noticed the title on the book.

'Worlds Hardest Sudoku Ever!' It proclaimed. Bulma raised an eyebrow.

"Wow, Vegeta, that's some pretty intense stuff." She was curious to see if his answers were correct. "Mind if I check it out?" She asked as though she didn't care if he did or not.

"Be my quest," Vegeta smirked and drained his coffee in one long draft. Bulma pulled the puzzle book around to her side of the table and flipped to the page Vegeta had just finished. Checking the answer page she flipped back to the key, checking his answers. She was amazed to discover they were all correct.

"No way!" she gapped in shock. "You must have cheated!" she shut her mouth realizing what she'd said as soon as the words were out of her mouth.

Vegeta glared at her. "The Prince of all Saiyans does not cheat!" He snarled. "Any Saiyan child could do these by his 6th year. They are simplistic mathematical logistics. Just because that idiot Kakarrot couldn't tie his shoes if he didn't have that jaunty little poem to help him, doesn't mean all Saiyans are intellectual morons."

Bulma was a little stunned. She'd never really stopped to consider Vegeta's intelligence. He was a warrior. Someone who's main focus was fighting and being the strongest. The fact that he might also be relatively intelligent forced her to see him in a whole new light. And it was in that second that she saw Vegeta for the first time. Really saw him. Not as project. Not as a pain the ass, or as a challenge to be met. But as a real person. With thoughts, and needs and emotions. Goals and desires. A mind that could reason, and plot and deduce. A mind that was similar to her own. Suddenly she knew she must be more careful around him. And suddenly she wanted to be around him more.

Bulma frowned and shook her head. Again with these thoughts. Apparently it had been too long since she'd been with anyone, in any sense of the word. She wondered if she should continue with the next stage of her plan, or if it were too risky now.

Vegeta watched in amusement as the woman's thoughts played across her face. Surprise, understanding, caution and then, something else. It was only there for a second before her face went completely blank. He could have sworn it was..., no. He told himself he'd just been seeing things.

Bulma placed the book back down on the table and stood to refill her coffee. Again she added sugar and cream and then sat back down. "I have to say, I'm impressed Vegeta. I never really thought of you as the brainy type."

"That's because you assumed we were all mindless fighters like that scum you call a friend." Vegeta scoffed and finished his coffee.

"I guess you're right. That wasn't fair of me and I'm sorry. You're much, much more intelligent then Goku will ever be. Goku wouldn't even know where to start on a beginning sudoku," She smiled at the truth of those words.

"He couldn't even spell sudoku," Vegeta laughed cruelly. His cup empty, he walked to the sink and placed it inside. Just as he was turning to leave, Bulma finally she decided that there was no reason not to proceed as planned.

"You know," she said, turning in her seat to face him. "If you're really serious about this day off thing... I've been taking this class on Massage Therapy. A friend told me that it's really great for healing sore and tired muscles. If you want I could... try it out on you. I need the practice anyway." She sipped her coffee, pretending as if she didn't care whether he said yes or no.

Vegeta watched her like a hawk. "A friend told you, huh? That "friend" wouldn't happen to be Kakarrot, would it?" he waited tensely. It was a test. Would she be honest with him? He could never respect anyone who was weak enough to hide behind lies.

Bulma narrowed her eyes. "Well, yes, actually it was. But what that doesn't mean..."

Vegeta grunted. "Very well. I have heard of this "Massage" therapy and I admit, I've been curious about it's application and benefits." He sounded very haughty and know-it-all. "You will perform this "Massage" on me in three hours time. I am busy now, but I suppose I could fit it in later." He made it sound like a command. One that was totally his idea. Just like she'd hopped he would.

"Okay then. Shall we say one o'clock? I wouldn't want to deprive you of your lunch time." She sounded only slightly sarcastic.

"Yes, one o'clock." he said and then left.

At one on the dot Vegeta found Bulma in his room. She had set up a strange looking table covered with sheets like a bed. She was dressed in short khaki shorts and a white polo shirt. She had a black belt with a strange pocket hanging off the back.

"Come on in, Vegeta." She smiled at him and motioned him in. "I thought this would be the most comfortable place for you." She folded the top sheet down slightly on the table. "I'm going to step out so you can get undressed and then you should get under the sheet and lay face down, okay?" She started to leave, but he grabbed her arm and stopped her.

"What do you mean, undressed?" he looked at her suspiciously. "This "Massage" is not performed with clothing on?" he was starting to wonder what he'd gotten himself into.

Bulma looked at him questioningly. "Well, I suppose you could leave your clothes on, but you aren't going to get a very good massage, that way. Besides," she held up a little bottle with a squirt top, "You don't want to get oil on your new clothes, do you?" She turned back and pulled his hand from her arm. "Look, Vegeta, this will be a very pleasant experience. I got a massage just last week and it feels amazing, and it's good for you. I highly recommend you take off your clothes for this. You're going to be under the sheet anyway." Bulma was a little nervous. She'd only had a few classes in the last few weeks and none of them had covered what to do if they didn't want to take off their clothes.

"Fine, but this better be worth it," Vegeta growled. Bulma nodded and left the room. Vegeta hesitated only briefly before pulling off his clothes and climbing under the sheet. He didn't have to wait too long before Bulma re-entered the room with a knock.

"Okay then, most massages are an hour, but, well... I have a feeling you might take a little longer seeing as how your so... muscular and whatnot and you've never had a massage before so..." she was rambling a little. She cringed at how nervous she sounded.

"You will simply keep working until I tell you to stop," Vegeta ordered and then turned his head and laid on the table, not sure what to expect.

"Here, you're supposed to put your face in this," Bulma said and pointed to a donut looking extension jutting out the top of the table. Vegeta glared at her, feeling uncomfortable again, but complied. "Okay, great. Just let me know if I go to deep and hurt you, or anything like that."

"As if you could hurt me," Vegeta laughed mockingly but his voice was muffled by the face donut.

Bulma started by folding the sheet down, exposing Vegeta's back down to just below where his tail used to be. Applying oil she began to make long flowing strokes from the top of his back, down to his waist and then back up to his shoulders and neck. Once his skin was nice and lubricated she started at his neck. She could feel the thick cords of muscle under her fingers. The tension in them was unbelievable. She tried squeezing them with her fingers, rubbing up and down and from side to side with her thumbs. Then she tried pressing into them deeply with her palms. Using her hands, arms and elbows she continued working down to the top of his shoulders and then massaged his back between his shoulder blades.

At first there didn't seem to be any kind of response and she worried she wasn't doing it right. And then, as she started doing long deep strokes with her elbow and forearm starting from the top of his shoulders over his ribs and down to his lower back, Vegeta slowly started to relax. Feeling some encouragement, she worked his deltoid and rhomboid muscles, his intercostal and erectors with a new found fervor. Her knowledge of massage strokes was pretty basic, but she just let her hands guide her, feeling for the muscles under his skin and giving them what she felt they needed. It wasn't like she could miss any of them. His body was like an over exaggerated anatomy dummy. With skin. And of course she'd aced Anat. and Pys. I, II, and III, which helped. The differences in Saiyan and Human anatomy where mostly structural based. Most of the components were the same, with one major exception.

A funny thing happened when she got to his low back. When her hands moved over the spot of raised, smooth scar tissue that indicated where his tail used to be Vegeta's whole body jerked.

"Careful, Woman! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" he demanded , turning to give her a dirty look.

"Sorry, Vegeta, I didn't know that would happen. I guess I should avoid that spot, huh?" she shrugged.

Vegeta considered it before laying back down. "Just warn me next time. And go easy."

Bulma barely stifled a laugh. She'd barely touched him. 'Guess he's pretty sensitive there,' she thought. She put a hand on his ribs and started moving it down slowly. "Okay, I'm going to try that again," she whispered and heard him grunt a reply. Using a light touch she moved slowly over the top of the spot. This time Vegeta barely flinched. Working slowly and smoothly she worked on his low back. Each time she went over that spot he twitched less and less until she was working freely without any reaction. Until he started purring. She felt the vibrations under her hands before she actually heard it, but after a few seconds the quite deep rumbling coming from his chest was filling the room. Bulma froze.

After a second of her not doing anything Vegeta realized why she'd stopped. He ceased purring instantly. The room filled with a tense, awkward silence.

"You will NOT tell anyone that happened, or I WILL kill you, do you understand," he growled, angry at himself for slipping up so badly. It was unsettling how good the Woman's hands were making him feel. And unsettling how much he didn't want her to stop.

"O..of course, Vegeta," she stuttered. "I wouldn't dream of it." She went back to work, finishing his back quickly, and moving onto his legs. She worked his calves, hamstrings and glutes. Left leg, then the right. She fought to keep her thoughts professional as she worked the tough thick muscles of his gluteus maximus and then through it to medius, minimus and into his deeper hip rotator muscles. After she finished his legs she unfolded the sheet from around his right leg and covered him completely. "Okay, Vegeta, roll over please, and slide down."

Vegeta responded slowly, rolling onto his back and sliding down onto the table. He was so relaxed he felt sluggish and had trouble moving smoothly. Once he was situated on his back he felt himself sink back into the table. It's padded surface was somehow self heating. And the Woman's hands... the seemed to be pulling out the tension in his body like a physical toxin.

Bulma next worked the front of his legs, anterior tibialis and then his knees and quads. Both legs and then on to his arms. By the time she got to his hands her own hands were starting to cramp. Still she pressed on, using her knuckles to work into the deeper muscles of his hands. After his hands and arms were done she moved onto his chest. She worked his pecs, avoiding the sanative skin of his nipples. Next she returned to his neck again, only this time she used the weight of his head to make long strokes up the back of his vertebrae to his skull. She was surprised by the texture of his hair. It was unlike anything she'd ever felt before. Soft but course at the same time. She worked her fingers into the tiny muscles at the base of his skull where his head and neck met. After she'd gotten his head to the point that she could move it around without any resistance what so ever she massaged his head, working her fingers through his incredible hair to the muscles underneath his scalp.

Last, but not least, she moved to his feet. She worked his heels and his arches. Moving the bones in his feet back and forth, loosening the muscles and tissue and releasing even more tension in his body. As she worked, rubbing circles into his feet with her thumbs, she happened to glance up and witnessed a miracle. Vegeta's face had relaxed, but the corners of his mouth had turned up, just slightly enough, to form a soft, yet peaceful smile.

Bulma managed to keep working without pause which was another small miracle. She finished his feet and then stepped up next to the side of his table. "Vegeta," she whispered. "I'm done." There was no response. "Vegeta." She put her hand on his shoulder and shook him lightly. "Wake up, Vegeta..." she paused, removed her hand and stepped back. Vegeta was out. Softly he began to snore. She turned out the lights and closed the door quietly behind her.

(Not what you expected? Just wait. Fun ahead. And you should all go get a massage. They're good for you.)


	9. The Seventh Terrace

A/N: At last we get to the good stuff! This had been edited to meet standards, but there is still some sexual content, and language. The unedited version can be found at mediaminer .org In the Dragonball Z fanfic section. Under Project:Vegeta. By Bulmaveg_Otaku.

Disclaimer: If I did own DBZ there's no way it would be suitable for children. It would have been more likely to appear on Cinimax after 10 PM instead of Cartoon Network right after school. That said, don't sue me.

Chapter 9:

The Seventh Terrace

She was standing on her balcony again. This time she was wearing her short khaki shorts and her light green bikini top. Her long legs were mostly exposed to the cool wind and she crossed her arms over her bare stomach, shivering. Vegeta was floating just out of reach from the railing, his hair only twitching slightly in the strong breeze.

"Vegeta?" she asked, frowning slightly as she looked up at him. The moonlight danced through her hair as it tumbled over her shoulders and brushed the almost glowing skin above her breasts. "What are you doing here?" she pulled her arms tighter around her midriff. She turned her head slightly and her hair floated back over her shoulder.

Vegeta rose slowly over the railing and lowered himself to the ground. Standing in front of her he took a small step closer. She watched his face, studied his eyes, and then lowered her arms. Her confusion melted away. She stepped towards him as well. She raised her hand and placed it on his chest.

"Are you sure?" she asked, looking at her hand on his chest and then back into his face. "Are you sure this is what you want?" she moved even closer, her body pressing against his. "Is this," she leaned forward and brushed her lips against his, "what you want?" she finished, her breath on his lips like the brush of an electrified butterfly.

Vegeta merely growled and wrapped his arms around her tightly. His mouth claimed hers in a crushing kiss. He pulled her to him roughly and thrust his tongue into her mouth. She sighed as she melted into him. Her body fused with his as she wrapped her fingers around his neck, running her hands up into his hair, massaging his scalp and pulling his mouth closer to hers.

Inside Vegeta began to melt. For the first time in his entire life he felt... joy. He felt...

Vegeta sat up gasping. He was still on the massage table. The Woman was gone. Apparently she'd finished the massage and had left him sleeping. The images and emotions from his dream lingered. His chest was heaving, his heart pounding in his rib cage. Any sense of relaxation disappeared in a flash flood of panic.

"What?" he gasped for air. "Why?!" he struggled to breath. Slowly he regained his composure. His heart slowed and his breathing grew less ragged. What spell had that witch put on him with her hands and her "Massage". What had she done to him?! He would never allow such... thoughts to exist willingly. She must have done something... more poison perhaps. He vaguely recalled having similarly disturbing images pressed into his brain during and after she injected him with that "sedative" and closed him into that dark water-filled hell hole. She must have drugged him again, in his food or, after he'd fallen asleep under her manipulative fingers. The oil! He could still feel the light slick of it on his skin. That had to be it. It had to be an elaborate plot to weaken him. To gain his trust, lure him into allowing his guard down and then brainwash him into thinking he... actually had feelings for... it was disgusting. And it stopped as of now.

He slipped off the table, surprised by the feeling of connection in his body and the boost in his energy. It seemed the massage had proved to be everything promised and more. The more being a means to control and humiliate him. He pulled his clothes on and stormed out into the hallway. He was going to find that miserable wretch and put an end to it immediately.

"Woman!" he roared, he stalked menacingly down the hallway to her room where he could feel her energy signature flickering against his senses like a slow burning candle. He pounded on her door until the weight of his fists forced it to fly open and smash into the wall behind it. The crash brought the Woman stumbling from the bathroom she held a brush in her hand and was dressed the same as before.

"Vegeta? What are you...?" Her protests were cut short as he crossed the room in three long strides. The fury in his expression matching the fire in his eyes causing Bulma's breath caught in her throat. She backed into the bathroom where she'd been freshening up for dinner. Her backside ran into the sink and stopped her in her tracks. Vegeta was in front of her in a fraction of a second.

"Why!?" he roared in her face. "Did you think you could get away with it and not have me figure it out?! What did you do to me, Woman!?" he was shouting so loud the very room seemed to quake.

"What did I do? Vegeta, what are you talking about? I gave you a massage! I thought that's what you wanted?" Bulma yelled right back. Her adrenaline was rushed into high gear and her fear made her defense mechanisms kick in.

"Oh, really, just a massage, was it? Do you really think I'm that stupid that I don't see right through your elaborate plot? Well, I did, and now you're going to pay!" Vegeta was shaking with unspent rage.

Bulma's eyes flinched. 'He knows... but how?' she thought. Out loud she said, "Look, Vegeta, whatever your so upset about, I'm sure it's nothing. Why don't you sit down and tell me what's bothering you?" she was trembling now. She wondered how she was going to talk herself out of this one.

"I'll tell you what's bothering me," Vegeta spat. "The fact that you thought you could take me, the Prince of All Saiyans, and turn me into some kind of weak, mindless, plaything to use for your own perverted amusement."

"Now you hold on just a second! I've never, not once used you for my amusement." She pointed a finger at his chest. "Everything I've ever done for you I did to try and help you, to help you become stronger and at every turn you've done nothing but tear me down and take me for granted. I haven't been amused. Trying to wade through your emotional mire and make some kind of impression on that impenetrable shield of yours has given me nothing but grief." she pushed him away from her, giving her a few inches between him and the sink that she hadn't had before. "Take today for example. I gave you one hell of a great massage and now, you're in here busting down my door and trying to terrorize me for no reason at all!?"

"No reason!?" he laughed cruelly. "You call drugging me and brainwashing me into... desiring you... no reason?" He said the words as though they tasted like ash in his mouth. "And I suppose you only did it because you didn't feel I was giving you enough attention, is that it? I never once stopped and admired your beauty or bowed to your powerful mind, so you had to bend me to your will and manipulate me into thinking that I actually wanted to..." he couldn't finish that sentence at all.

"What are you talking about?" Bulma looked so dumbfounded that, had he not been so pissed, he might have laughed. "I never drugged you or brainwashed you. And you certainly don't desire me!" she was trying to hang onto her anger, but her confusion beat it out, hands down. "Do you?" she asked her brow creased into an unbelieving frown.

"Of course not!" Vegeta said, a little too quickly. "How could I? You're weak and vulgar and you don't know when to shut up..." Vegeta protested, but the genuinely puzzled expression on the Woman's face was making him falter. Either she was a really good actress and a fantastic liar, or... Or she really had no idea what he was talking about. But if she hadn't forced him to think and dream those things then why...? He stepped away from her and his own confused look came over him. But he would never... he shook his head trying to force things to make sense.

Bulma watched Vegeta's internal struggle, her fear and shock turning into sympathy. He just looked so lost and broken. "Vegeta, I would never..." her voice drifted off. He didn't look like he could hear her anyway. "Vegeta," she reached out and placed a hand on his arm.

Vegeta jumped as if she'd just sent a 1000 kilowatt jolt through his body. He jerked his arm back and pushed her away from him at the same time, sending her stumbling against the bathroom sink. "Don't touch me!" he roared again. His blood was boiling, his thoughts were racing. "Don't ever... touch me," he whispered. His eyes looked at her, leaning back against the sink, her chest heaving, her hair tumbling down around her face and over her shoulders just like in his dream... The dream where he had...

Bulma froze in horror as she watched Vegeta struggle for control. His eyes moved over her, and she felt a seemingly inappropriate response to that burning look low in her stomach. She tried to think things through. Apparently Vegeta thought she'd done something to him to make him... he'd said desire her and want to...? What? She'd never, in a thousand years thought it possible that he'd lower himself to think about her as anything but a means to an end. She'd been trying to earn his trust, maybe even be his friend, but this... she'd never expected this.

Did Vegeta really want her? He was just a man, after all. And she'd thought many times about how lonely he must be. One of only two surviving members of his whole race. There were no Saiyan women left. He would never take a queen, never be king. For the rest of his life he had nothing to hope for, he was the Prince of a dead race. Suddenly she could feel her heart breaking for him. She swallowed, her throat constricting painfully as she struggled to find words.

"I'm not sure what's been going on with you, Vegeta. I can only guess what your feeling right now," she had her hands raised in a non-threatening gesture. "It's just...when was the last time you... had sex with anyone?" she asked quietly keeping her voice low and neutral.

Vegeta snarled viciously. "That is none of your business!" he hissed, his entire body trembling, his every muscle poised to strike. 'How dare she ask me that!'

"You're right, you're right. I'm just trying to make the point that maybe, just maybe, you're having some... thoughts and feelings... about me because... it's been a while. And not cause I did something to make you think or feel that way but because I'm really the only single young woman around that you've had any kind of interaction with. It's not hard to believe that a healthy guy like yourself has... needs, that maybe haven't been being met just because you don't have anyone to meet them with." She was talking fast, trying to choose her wording carefully because Vegeta looked like he was just about ready to kill her and be done with the whole ordeal, and she didn't want to die. But this was just about as awkward as it got. If someone had told her this morning she'd be discussing Vegeta's sex life with him by the end of the day she'd have had them committed.

Vegeta thought about the Woman's words. It was true that it had been a very, very long time. And she was the only female of his relative age he knew on this planet. He'd never really had to deal with his sexual needs before. And he didn't really understand what was healthy for someone his age. He'd been removed from his home world and his race as a very young boy and raised among Frieza's warriors. He'd learned about sex from Nappa and Radditz, who had both been extremely crass and vulgar men. He'd often been disgusted by the way they lusted after women of any species. They were nothing but lower-class guards.

"I am royalty. The last Prince of a mighty race. I am not someone who will allow himself to be lead around by what's in my pants," his lip was raised in disdain.

"I would have never said that you were, Vegeta," Bulma said quietly. "I'm just saying that it's normal for a man whether he be Human of Saiyan, slave or prince, to have a sex drive. It's not anything to be ashamed of. In fact, most humans use sexual conquest to raise their social standing since we don't have the whole, fighting and killing thing anymore." she was wondering if this could get anymore embarrassing.

"Are you suggesting that I lower myself to your pathetic human standards?" he was losing that violent edge to his voice but Bulma wasn't sure there was anything she could say at this point that wouldn't offend him in some way.

"No, that's not what I'm saying. I'm just trying to get it through your thick skull that I haven't done anything to you, that whatever you're feeling is because you're a man and I'm a damned good looking woman. It's really not your fault, a lot of guys are attracted to me. I'm sexy and brilliant, and really really rich. But it isn't my fault either. I can't help how I look or any of that and I'd certainly never stoop to trying to force some guy to be with me, no matter how horny I was." She paused, reeling in the irritation. "So don't take it out on me that you haven't gotten laid for a while, okay? Trust me. If I was going to pick someone to seduce it certainly wouldn't be you!" she thought maybe that would convince him of her innocence and he'd get on with letting her live another day.

Vegeta raised one eyebrow slowly. "Are you saying you don't find me worthy of mating with you?" he couldn't believe she considered herself so high and mighty as to be above him. Part of Vegeta responded to the challenge in her words. He would not allow her to think she was too good for him.

"Well, I honestly never thought about it," she said and then remembered staring at his ass when ever she'd had the chance. "Okay, so, like maybe once or twice. But only because I'm just a woman, and you're a decent looking man." She left out the part about his ass.

Vegeta relaxed his fists and stepped closer. "So you do desire me as a bed partner?" He smirked slightly when her cheeks started to turn bright red.

"I... I... no!" she was leaning back against the sink again. Did she want him? Her eyes followed the tense curve of his shoulders and she remembered the feel of his body under her hands. She remembered thinking that he could probably pull her apart with his bare hands and never even break a sweat, and she shuddered. But not from fear. She knew he was dangerous, but instead of fear she felt... excitement. She shivered a little under his gaze.

"So," he said stepping closer, "you don't fell anything sexual when you look at me?" he was only inches away.

'Well I do now,' she thought swallowing hard again and wondering if there was anyway to escape this situation unscathed. She didn't trust herself to speak so she just looked up at him with what she hoped was only fear in her eyes.

"And if I were to make advances on you then you would, of course, turn me down," Vegeta said, but he didn't believe it. Her scent had changed. He could smell her desire mixing with her fear. And he knew that she did feel lust for him, just as he felt it for her. "And just how long has it been since you had sex?" he mocked her as he raised one hand and placed it at her waist.

Bulma gapped at him. "Stop it, Vegeta. This isn't funny," she put a hand against his chest to show him she wanted him to stop just as she'd said it, but she really was kind of hoping he wouldn't. Something in the way he was moving, the way his eyes were burning into her, ignited something deep inside her. It was the danger. She felt her adrenaline flooding her system, and loved that feeling so much.

"You'll notice I'm not laughing," Vegeta said his face serious now. His other hand moved up to her waist, but then slid down over the curve of her hip. "You think if I decide to take you here and now that there's anything you could do to stop me?" He had never forced himself on any woman before and didn't plan on starting now, but he was pretty certain that he wouldn't need to.

Bulma clenched her jaw. His promise of violence, how ever slight, only made her heart beat harder. "You wouldn't," she made it a statement, knowing she was right, but enjoying the thought that maybe, just maybe, she was wrong.

"Wouldn't I?" he asked, his face drawing closer to her. His breath was hot on her lips but he stopped, half a thought away. "Tell me to stop one more time and we'll find out," he dared her to deny what she felt, what he was making her feel.

For a second Bulma wondered just how her day had managed to take such an insane turn and then she had to make her decision. The pull Vegeta had on her, the way he made her want to help him, the way his loneliness called to her, the way her heart broke for him twisted in her chest until she thought her chest would burst. Add that to her suddenly sparked need for him to touch her and the pull he had on her magnified exponentially.

"I... don't want... you... to stop," she whispered breathlessly, her mind fogging over with lust.

"I didn't think so..." Vegeta whispered and then closed the distance. His body felt a swelling of victory as he claimed her mouth with his own just as he'd done in the dream. She tasted even sweeter then he'd imagined.

*edited for content*

go to mediaminer

.org/fanfic/view_?cid=556596&submit=View+Chapter&id=158181

****

Bunni Briefs had just come in from the garden and started working on dinner. She decided on something quick and easy, grilled chicken with steamed corn and fluffy white rice with chicken gravy. It was ready with in 20 minutes and she started setting the table. Her husband walked into the room just then, carrying a newspaper and his little Kitty.

"Oh, there you are, dear." Mrs. Briefs smiled. "I was just getting ready to call everyone for dinner. Would you mind telling Bulma and Vegeta that the food is ready," she asked him placing the food in the center of the table. She didn't even notice his face turning bright red.

"Actually, dear, I don't think either of them will be joining us this evening," he mumbled and sat at the table burring his face in the newspaper. "I imagine they are rather... preoccupied."

"Meow," Kitty agreed.

****

Vegeta awoke slowly. His senses systematically made note of his surroundings. He was on the floor. He could feel fabric and flesh. And hair, there was hair just beneath his chin. And he smelled sex. Lots of it. His eyes flew open and he looked down. The Woman was draped over him, one leg entwined with his, one arm across his stomach. Her head rested in the crook of his shoulder. She was sleeping now, breathing softly against his skin.

He remembered what had happened. He remembered what they'd done and how it had felt. He didn't recall how they'd ended up on the floor. He considered throwing her off of him and storming out. Then he glanced over at the balcony. The sun was still in the process of setting. It was still his day off. He'd deal with this mess tomorrow. Besides, he was totally exhausted. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her body closer. 'Just until tomorrow,' he told himself.

(More Lemony Goodness to follow. Sorry if any of you were offended. I do have a tendency to get carried away...)

P.S. The Seventh Terrace is a reference to Dante's _Purgatorio_ where the Lustful are purged by burning in an immense wall of flame and are purified by the fire.


	10. Bad Idea

A/N: I'm sorry about the editing. I'm just trying to be a good little author and follow the rules of the website. Again, a non-edited Version can be found on Mediaminer .org. In the Dragonball Z fanfiction. Under Project:Vegeta. By Bulmaveg_Otaku. (that's me!)

Disclaimer: The characters in this story aren't mine. The basis for the DBZ universe isn't mine. Hell, I barely own the laptop this was typed on.

Chapter 10:

Bad Idea

Bulma woke sometime in the middle of the night. She was back in that safe place she loved. Strong arms holding her close, she smiled and nuzzled the warm skin of her lover's chest. Her lover... she sighed with the joy of that thought. They her eyes flew open. Realization slammed into her. Her "lover" was Vegeta. What had she done? What had he done? Her mind worked back over the afternoon. Both of them had done quite a bit, she recalled. And she had thoroughly enjoyed every second of it. The whole time it had felt right. Like it was destined to happen. Which was a weird thought because before today, or yesterday, which ever it was she had never even considered the possibility. At least not consciously. She supposed her sub-conscious must have been thinking about it for a long time. Hence that dream she'd had months and months ago.

And now what was she going to do? They hadn't used protection. The thought hadn't even entered her head. Chances were that there would be consequences for that. Just as there would be hell to pay when Vegeta woke up, she was sure of it. As soon as he returned to his senses, the driving passion burned out, he would probably start accusing her of manipulating and brainwashing him again. He would blame this on her, even though it was totally his fault. Mostly. Probably.

She felt her chest constricting at the thought that this was probably a one time thing. He would hate her in the morning and she'd be lucky if he let her live. And what if he left?! That thought almost made her heart stop. She forced herself to breath and sighed with the realization that maybe she actually had feelings for the stubborn Prince. She wondered how this could happen to her. When had it happened? She didn't know. All she knew was that she had been very happy before she'd woken up. Safe and warm and... it was all going to be over soon. She had marveled at Vegeta's passion and skill, and even, at moments, his tenderness. They were the kind of things she'd always known he was capable off. He'd let himself get totally lost in the moment.

She wondered how difficult it would be to make him loose himself again. If she could just use that passion, get him to step out of his normal self like he had earlier, maybe she could hang on to this feeling a little longer.

Bulma slid her hand across his stomach, down over his hip and finally to his groin. Even soft he was a decent size. And when he got hard... she shuddered with the memory. She wrapped her fingers around him and began stroking him lightly. There was dried stickiness everywhere, but she ignored it and continued to stroke and squeeze. It wasn't long before she felt him growing firm in her grip and his chest started rumbling with that deep, resonant purr.

Bulma smiled, loving that she was privy to the secret that the Prince of All Saiyans could purr. She started kissing down his chest to his stomach. Her hand worked up and down on his quickly hardening cock as she flicked her tongue into his belly button. She considered the phenomenon of the belly button and decided that Saiyan women must carry their children much like human women. It was probably why humans and saiyans were sexually and reproductively compatible. After all, they both were descended from primates although Saiyans descended from space monkeys, obviously. She was beginning to consider the possibility that there could be a common ancestor when the purring stopped abruptly. She froze and looked up. Vegeta was staring down at her, his expression blank. In a flash she was lying against the floor, her wrists pinned roughly by his fists.

"What do you think you're doing, Woman?" he asked, his voice quiet but menacing.

"Well..." she shrugged suggestively. "I was just..." she stared back into his eyes, refusing to fear him. "I think I kind of owe you." Bulma smiled in a way she hoped was seductive. "Besides... you said I could later. And it's later now." She fluttered her eyelashes and raised one of her knees to rub the outside of his hip. His eyes narrowed and his hand jumped to her knee, stopping it from rubbing him. She raised her now free hand and made soft little circles on his flexed bicep. "What's the matter, Vegeta," she whispered huskily. "Don't you want to play anymore?" She raised an eyebrow. "Or maybe you're just too tired? I didn't think it was possible for one weakling human to wear out the Prince of All Saiyans..." she issued the challenge knowing full well it could lead to her death. She was hoping for punishment of a different kind.

Vegeta stared down at her, his face set like stone, his mind analyzing her words and considering all possible outcomes. When she'd said that last part he laughed sharply. "You have no idea who your messing with, Woman." He could feel the blood rushing in his veins, particularly in a certain area of his body. It would be a waste if he killed her now and left himself unsatisfied.

Bulma raised her hips and brushed against him lightly. Vegeta closed his eyes and growled. It was unbelievable how bold she could be. How she could make him react so strongly. It had just been a long time for him, he told himself.

"Fine," Bulma sighed. "But if you aren't going to give me what I want, will you at least let me up so I can go shower?" she pouted her lip out just as she had the evening before. "I just feel so... dirty," she said the word as if it were something to be desired instead of despised. The blood flow to his groined increased 10 fold.

"Insatiable minx," he growled and stood quickly. He pulled her up with him and threw him over his shoulder.

*edited for content*

Once she was satisfied that she'd been washed clean once again Bulma turned off the water and opened the door, stepping out and grabbing them towels. Now that the moment was over again she felt the loss of it and wondered what to say or do now. She handed him a towel and then moved so he could exit as well. She proceeded to dry herself off, rubbing the soft terry cloth on her limbs and torso, rubbing her hair with it as well. When she turned around she found Vegeta was no longer in the bathroom. She peered into the bedroom and found him lying on the bed, the towel wrapped around his waist.

Smiling shyly Bulma wrapped her own towel around her body and walked to the bed. "What is it about men and falling asleep right after sex?" she asked him. His eyes remained closed as he answered.

"Just lie down, Woman," he said, not too unkindly.

Bulma did just that. She climbed onto the bed, next to him, not sure how much of her he would welcome. Making a decision she curled against his body, kissing his chest again as she relaxed into the bed, her head on his shoulder. He could move her if he wanted to.

He didn't. He didn't wrap his arms around her, but he didn't push her away either. Bulma figured she'd take what she could get and fell asleep with a smile on her face.

When Bulma woke in the morning she was alone in her bed. Her towel twisted around her uncomfortably, but her sheet covered most of her anyway. She wasn't surprised at all to find Vegeta gone, or that she could hear the Simulator hard at work outside. His day to rest and whatnot was over. Vegeta was back to business as usual. Bulma wondered what business as usual meant for her. She vowed then and there that she wouldn't push, she'd just let things happen.

Vegeta would probably do that thing where he just pretended nothing undesirable had happened. She'd decided that if that were the case, she'd let him. It was almost a given that anything she did to get his attention was just going to push him further and further away. Besides, she needed time to adjust to her own thoughts and feelings. Aside from the fact that the sex had been mind-blowing, how sure was she that Vegeta was the kind of guy she wanted in her life?

She wasn't going to deny that she felt something for him. Worry, concern, irritation... somehow he had wormed his way into her life, and possibly her heart, but that didn't mean she was going to give him leave to stomp all over her. Knowing who he was and what to expect, she figured she could keep herself pretty guarded from the arrogant Prince. She hoped she wasn't just lying to herself.

She dressed and went about her day, working on this or that going about her business. Her father avoided her gaze at lunch and she wondered just how much he'd heard. Considering his lab was right below her bedroom she decided it must have been quite a bit. Thankfully her mother seemed oblivious.

After dinner Bulma retired to the living room to read. She had an older mystery novel she'd been meaning to pick up for a while now, a birthday gift from her father a few years back. She curled up on the couch and started reading, captured after the very first page. Caught up in the world of royal monarchies and street wise detectives, she didn't hear her dad follow her into the room.

Several minutes into it she was startled by Dr. Briefs clearing his throat and rustling a newspaper. She looked up and took a deep breath. "Oh, hey dad, I didn't hear you come in," she was preparing to return to her book when her dad coughed nervously. "What's up?" she asked, sure now that there was something on his mind.

"Well, Bulma, it's just that I'm a bit... concerned about you." His mustache twitched as he avoided direct eye contact again. "I don't think I have to tell you why," he said hopefully.

Bulma sighed and set her book on her lap. "No, you don't," she wondered if her dad was really going to push the topic, as he was clearly uncomfortable about the whole thing.

"I just want you to be careful," he said his fatherly role was not one he put on often. "Your mother and I have always wanted the best for you, Bulma. I know you're a grown woman now, and that you have a certain regard for the adventurous and even sometimes the dangerous, but this..." he gestured in the general direction of the GS. "I'm just worried that it, that he, may be far more then even you can handle. You're a brilliant and capable woman, but if you end up playing with fire, you're going to get burned." It was quite a speech for her dad and she felt her heart swell with love for him.

"I know, Dad," she whispered and looked towards the windows overlooking the yard. "I didn't intend for this to happen, but now that it has... I'm not sure what to do. But I don't want you and mom to worry about me. I don't have any delusions as to just what or who Vegeta really is. And I don't really expect anything from him. I don't know what's going to happen, but I am going to be very careful. Trust me, I've got my flame-retardant suit all ready when it comes to him. I'm not going to let him hurt me," she smiled at him reassuringly. 'At least not too much,' she though to herself.

"I guess that's all a father can really ask," he smiled back at her and then went back to reading his paper. Bulma picked up her book again and sighed in relief. That hadn't been too horrible.

Vegeta came in later that evening well after dark. He'd progressed extensively over the course of the day, making leaps and bounds in his strength and agility. He still was unable to achieve the level of super saiyan, but he felt even closer to it now then ever before. He was hopeful that in the next week he would be able to finally ascend.

Which posed the question. Why this sudden breakthrough? He'd been pretty stuck lately, but after yesterday that had changed drastically. He didn't know if it was because he'd given his body a day to rest, or if was because of the massage, or if it possibly had something to do with... his other activities. The more he considered it, the more he realized that forcing himself to stay away from the Woman might be a bad idea. When he'd woken that morning he'd had no intention of letting it happen again, but after the day he'd had he was reconsidering that decision

And of course there was the fact that he'd enjoyed mating with her very much, although he'd never admit it out loud. He just didn't need the distraction. He forced himself to retire to his room alone, banishing any and all thoughts of that blue-haired siren.

That night he slept poorly, plagued by dreams that left him in a cold sweat. When he awoke they drifted into nothingness like mist before the wind, but he was left with a persistent unsettled feeling. The remainder of the night was spent tossing and turning and he rose early to escape his restless bed.

All morning he pushed himself, desperately working to rid himself of his unease. He eventually succeeded, but that was the only thing he accomplished that day. His training and focus were sorely lacking, despite his single minded drive to loose himself in the fighting.

By the end of the day he had not progressed any further. His frustration and self-deprecation were only increased by the fact that he knew exactly where he wanted to turn to rid himself of his anger. He wondered if thinking another sack session might aid him in his training were just an excuse to fuck Her again. Always she seemed to be in the back of his mind promising pleasure and physical release.

He didn't want to believe for a second that he needed her, or depended on what she had to offer him in order to succeed as a fighter and warrior. He decided that it was his choice whether to claim her body for his own selfish purposes or not. He was in control and he could say yes or no at anytime to use her as he saw fit.

And that was how he ended up following her upstairs after dinner, walking a few steps behind her. As soon as they were out of ear shot from her parents he stepped forward and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her into his room.

"Wha?!" she squeaked in surprise. "Vegeta what are you...?" her question was cut off by his mouth on hers. He had pulled her into his room, shut his door, and pinned her against it. Bulma hesitated in surprise, but only for a second. Then her body leapt into action. Her arms slid around his waist, pulling him to her. Her mouth leaned into him, her tongue working just as fervently as his to posses the other completely. One of Vegeta's hands slid under Bulma's shirt and started pushing it up. His hand pressed into her soft abdomen and then blazed a smoldering path up over her ribs.

Bulma pulled away from Vegeta's mouth gasping for control of her mind and body. "Wait," she whispered, her hands on his chest switched modes from groping to resisting. "You can't just attack me in the hall like that," she protested, steeling her expression and forcing her face to match her words.

"Apparently," Vegeta growled as he pulled her high collared shirt down and leaned in to press his tongue against her not-quite-healed super hickey. "I can." He smirked as he felt her shiver in his arms.

Bulma swallowed hard and then tried pushing him away again. "Stop it, Vegeta."She forced her legs closed and leaned back into the door as far as she could. " I'm not some whore that you can just use whenever you want to without even saying hi first." She put on her best scowl ignoring the needy throb between her thighs.

Again, Vegeta reached under her shirt and pulled at her. "You talk too much, Woman." His jaw dropped in shock as she slapped his hand away. He reacted without thinking, his hand gripping her under the chin and slamming her head back against the wall. His chest rumbled with a threatening growl.

"Cut it out," she said through her teeth. He wasn't really hurting her, he just had to assert his manliness. "Would it really kill you to have a conversation every once in a while?" She turned her head, trying to break free of his grip, but his fingers started to press painfully into the tender skin of her neck.

"Lets get one thing straight right now," Vegeta said venomously. "I don't like you. We will never be friends. This isn't a "relationship". I don't want to "talk". I have no interest in "getting to know you better". I want to fuck, and that is all. And it is exceptionally irritating that you seem hell bent on pissing me off by incessantly running that whiny voice of yours." He released her slowly and stepped back, his arms crossed of his chest habitually closing himself off. He was seriously rethinking his decision to continue their physical relationship. He should have know the weak little witch would have to make more of it then it was. He'd already revealed more of himself to her then he was comfortable. Her very presence seemed to rip right through his cold, tough exterior and into the carefully guarded, twisting inferno that was his soul. "Would it kill YOU to shut up once in a while?"

Bulma looked at him her expression softening for a second and then she started to laugh.

"What are you laughing at?" Vegeta huffed and clenched his jaw.

Bulma put her hand over her mouth and looked like she was about to double over. "Us!" she leaned back against the door to keep from doubling over. Slowly she got her mirth under control and reached for Vegeta. She wrapped her arms around his elbows and tried to pull him closer. He stood fuming and immovable so she stepped towards him instead. "We are such a bad idea," she said shaking her head and flashing him a brilliant smile.

Vegeta grunted and it might have been an agreement, but made no move to do anything. His eyes looked over her face unsure of what her next move would be. He was surprised when she leaned forward and kissed him lightly. He felt her arms slid around his waist and try to hug his body to hers, but his arms were still crossed between them making it kind of awkward.

Bulma flicked her tongue over his bottom lip. He remained stiff in her arms, but at least he wasn't pulling away. She grinned against his mouth and lowered her fingers to his tail spot which she pressed firmly through his clothes. Vegeta gasped as the Woman sent lightning up his spine and into every cell of his body. She took the opportunity to deepen their kiss, her tongue was in his mouth tracing dangerously seductive paths over his own tongue, teeth and inside of his lips.

When the shock of what she'd done passed Vegeta growled into her mouth and unfolded his arms. Within seconds he has her pressed against the door again, her arms pinned over her head. "You are more trouble then you're worth, Woman."

"Ditto, Vegeta," she continued to smile up at him sweetly until he moved in and smugly kissed the smile right off her face.

(We all know what happens next! Stay tuned for the next Chapter and as always, Reviews inspire updates!)


	11. And Then There Were Three

1A/N: I am rather proud of this Chapter. Let me know if YOUR thoughts! Oh, and lots of swearing in this one.

Chapter 11:

And Then There Were Three

Bulma sat eyeing the intimidating little stick with apprehension.

Things had been pretty okay the last few weeks and had gotten back into the normal flow with one major exception. During the day Vegeta continued to train unceasingly. He would sometimes find time to make demands for food and equipment and pick fights with Bulma, who gladly returned the verbal assaults. And every few nights Vegeta would make his way into her bed, or drag her into his as they continued to try and get their fill on one another. It wasn't a perfect situation for either of them, but it seemed to be working out well enough. Until now.

For one reason or another she'd just never worried about birth control with Vegeta. She'd discovered long ago that being on the pill made her go crazy. Even the lighter dosages sent her hormones spiraling out of wack. She'd nearly killed Yamcha before deciding it would be best if she stopped taking it. So they'd gone with condoms. But Vegeta didn't seem like the kind of guy you told to wrap it up and lived. She'd been afraid to. And now she was afraid because she hadn't. He'd never seemed worried about it, so she hadn't really let it concern her. Then she'd been late. And then missed entirely.

The egg timer buzzed and she shut it off quickly, the ringing only irritated her already frayed nerves. When silence once again filled the room, she reached across the sink and picked up the test. Dread and excitement poured into her. She was pregnant. How was she going to tell Vegeta?

She forced the panic down, telling herself she'd could wait till he was done training. She busied herself in the lab, working to keep her mind occupied. At dinner she and her parents made small talk while Vegeta stuffed his face. She didn't want to have this possible volatile conversation in front of her mom and dad so she tried to act normal. She avoided looking at or talking to Vegeta at all. If he noticed he didn't say anything. He seemed pretty absorbed with his own thoughts.

She tried to think positive. Maybe he would be excited to have a child, an heir. A half Saiyan child, she thought with trepidation. Chi chi had managed to bear a half-Saiyan child. It couldn't be that much different then a normal human baby, right? She ignored the wheedling thoughts that whispered that Chi chi was at least ten times stronger then she was. Probably more, much more. Still, she was almost certain she had nothing to worry about. Maybe she should call Chi chi. But not until after she'd talked to Vegeta. She glanced up at him across the table and caught him frowning at her. She looked away quickly and tried not to tremble. She felt his eyes on her a moment longer and then heard him push up from his seat and leave.

Bulma waited another few minutes and then stood. "I'm pretty tired. I think I'm going to go to bed now," she said to her mom and dad. Her mother stood and caught Bulma's arm.

"Is everything okay, Bulma?" she asked. "You look a little pale? And you're shaking!" her mother placed a hand on Bulma's forehead.

"I'm fine, Mom," she said and pulled away. "I'm just tired. I haven't been sleeping very well..." she blushed a little when her mother grinned and winked at her.

"Well, I can't say that I blame you!" her mother started, and Bulma guessed that this conversation was heading into a bad place. She'd known her mother would figure things out eventually.

"Okay then, I'll see you in the morning!" she said cheerfully and nearly ran from the room. She was upstairs before she realized it and, suddenly, the fear was back. 'You can do this, Bulma!' she told herself as she forced her feet to take her to Vegeta's door. She raised her fist and paused. Her gut was clenched tighter then she'd ever thought possible. Her body felt cold with fear, a shiver up her spine sent her whole body into micro-spasms. She lowered her hand. She couldn't do this! She whirled around and felt her heart drop out of her chest when she spotted Vegeta leaning against the wall behind her. She very nearly screamed, but managed to bite her lip instead. Her chest heaved as she struggled to get enough air.

"Kami, Vegeta! What the hell are you doing! Are you trying to put me in cardiac arrest?" she put a hand over her heart and willed it to beat slower.

Vegeta narrowed his eyes at the Woman. She was acting strangely, and she reeked of fear. "What is wrong with you, Woman?" he was pretty sure her fear was aimed at him, and not because he'd startled her. She'd smelled of it at dinner, too. He was refusing to feel the hurt that kept trying to squeeze it's way into his chest. She hadn't been afraid of him since... well since Namek probably. He didn't understand why she seemed petrified of him now. He'd done nothing to earn her fear. Lately.

Vegeta resisted the urge to punch a hole in the wall as he watched the Woman's eyes nearly pop out of her head and onto the plush hallway carpet. Her heart was pounding and her lip was bleeding slightly from where she'd bitten it. And her nails were soon going to break the flesh on her palms. It sickened him that he no longer relished her fear. That instead he found himself wanting to put a fist through whatever was causing her to shake like that. And the fact that it seemed to be him made his stomach twist. He forced himself to take a deep breath. Stupid Woman. Why did he care if she was cringing away from him in fear? He didn't care.

Bulma forced herself to move, stepping towards Vegeta. "I...I need to... There's something..." she hated how scared and weak she sounded. She took a breath and then forced herself to swallow her fear. "We need to talk," she said, more calmly now.

Vegeta groaned inwardly at her words. He watched her get a hold of her fear and take another step closer to him. It caused a small swelling of pride as he was witness to her conquering her fear. He'd admitted, albeit grudgingly that the woman seemed to have balls of steel. She'd stepped up to face Frieza when he'd been about to tear apart her world and she was conquering her fear of him now. He pushed away from the wall and stepped closer to her. "Fine then. Talk."

She hesitated. "Can we go into your room first? Please?" she said still trying to work above her terror. He grunted and walked past her. Once they were in his room he watched her close the door behind herself and then turn slowly to face him. It suddenly occurred to him that she was going to refuse him further access to her bed and that she was afraid he would be angry because of it. His gut twisted even more. He pulled on his reliably stable anger and crossed his arms over his chest rigidly preparing for her rejection. He told himself he didn't care. It would be less of a distraction for him anyway. He was ready for whatever she could toss at him.

"I just thought that you should know that I... I'm pregnant." she said that last part so quickly he almost missed it. He wasn't ready for that.

"What!?" he hissed, her words sinking in finally. "Why would you let that happen?" he was confused and defensive. Which translated into furious.

"I didn't LET it happen, Vegeta," she said back, crossing her own arms. "It just... It just did. That's what happens when a man and a woman have unprotected sex. Repeatedly." She knew that wasn't completely true in every sense of the word. She hadn't done anything to stop it from happening.

Vegeta was unfamiliar with the term unprotected sex. "What does that mean?" he asked. He'd never considered the possibility that the Woman would be stupid enough to want to get with child. His child. Saiyan women could choose the time and man then considered most worthy in order to conceive. But then again, the Woman was human, not saiyan. "Human women do not control their conception," he said, as soon as the thought occurred to him.

"No, we don't," she said quietly. "Are you saying that Saiyan women can?" she asked frowning. That would explain why he'd never seemed concerned with the possibility. This was just a case of cross-species mis-communication.

Vegeta nodded. Then he shook his head. "Why would you risk having a child with a man you..." he stopped his question. A man you hate? A man you fear? A man you know is a cold-blooded, heartless murdering bastard? He wasn't sure what he'd meant to ask but he didn't want the answer, either way.

Bulma threw up her hands up. "I don't know!" she put her hands over her face. "We were just... And I was trying to... I mean you were so...!" She didn't seem to be able to finish a thought either. She wasn't going to cry, though, she wasn't!

Vegeta stood there, silent, letting the weight of the situation bear down on him. The Woman was pregnant. She was going to have his child. He was going to have a half-breed son. He did not have time for this. "I hope you don't expect me to be happy about this," he spit at her angrily.

Bulma laughed bitterly and lowered her hands to roll her eyes at him. "Trust me, I'm not all that thrilled myself." Mostly she was just glad he hadn't killed her yet. "But it's happened and, now we have to deal with this like two grown up, adults."

It was Vegeta's turn to laugh. His scorn stunned Bulma. "I don't have to deal with anything. This is your problem. You were stupid enough to get yourself into this situation. If I had known the risk I would have never touched you!" he was practically yelling now.

"Don't act like this is all my fault, Vegeta. This is just as much your child as it is mine. It takes two, remember?" she no longer feared for her life. She feared being left alone to raise this child. She feared being abandoned by the man that she... Her thoughts stopped and she paused, on the verge of tears. 'The man that I what?' she wondered. Her heart felt as though Vegeta had plunged a knife into it. She'd known he wouldn't be happy about this situation. She'd even thought he might kill her over it. Or had she? Had she really thought him possible of murdering her now that she carried his child? No, she realized. She'd never really thought he would. Nor had she though him possible of sending her on her way, tossing her like a empty candy wrapper now that the fun was gone. "I... I'm afraid, Vegeta." she wanted to reach out to him, to have him wrap his arms around her and tell her it was going to be all right. But she knew that was never going to happen. "I need you." she whispered, hands gripping her arms. "I can't do this on my own."

Vegeta nearly choked on her words. He didn't know how to be a father, or a husband or... even a friend. He couldn't give support or love. He was the worst possible person to come to for anything but death and mayhem. Purging planets, he could do. Killing millions of innocent people, sure, he could pull off with out breaking a sweat. But this... "I can't," he said simply and then he pushed past her and out the door, her sobs reaching his ears even as he exited the compound and blasting his way into the night sky.

For the next 8 months Bulma hardly saw Vegeta. He'd take off for days at a time and when he'd return he'd lock himself up in the Gravity Simulator. Bulma's mother and father were as supportive as two parents could be. Dr. Briefs spent a lot of his time making baby friendly devices and building things like a temperature controlled crib and an automated dipper receptacle. Her mother would bring home new baby clothes and blankets and toys every time she'd go shopping. After a while they needed a whole new wing for all the baby stuff.

Bulma never called Chi chi or any of her other friends. Partly she was wanting to keep it a surprise and partly because it hurt to much to explain about the baby's father.

One day, after she'd started to really show she had an unannounced visit from her ex. He'd walked up behind her while she'd been outside talking to her mother who was working in her garden. He'd tried to wrap his arms around her waist and had gotten the shock of his life.

"Holy shit! Bulma! You're huge!" he shouted and she'd barley restrained herself from punching him in the throat.

"I'm not huge," she'd muttered crossing her arms over her chest, "I'm pregnant. There is a difference, you know." She'd felt a smirk of satisfaction cross her face when his face had fallen.

"Pregnant!?" He seemed angry for a second. "By who?" he had sounded jealous.

"Not that it's any of your business, but it was Vegeta." And she'd forced down a laugh when Yamcha nearly fell on his face in shock.

"Vegeta!" he yelled, "How could you?! With Vegeta!? But Bulma, he's a cold-hearted killer!" he stammered.

"Not to mention a total ass hole," Bulma agreed. "Trust me on this one, I know." She tried not to think about how much she missed him, in spite of that fact. "What are you doing here anyway?" She asked, not un-rudely.

He'd gone on to explain that he'd just broken up with a girl from his aerobics class and had though he'd drop by to ask Bulma out. That was just like Yamcha, to expect her to just be sitting at home waiting for him. Well, she'd shown him. Even if she hadn't been carrying Vegeta's baby, Bulma would never have accepted, she told herself. Her and Yamcha were over, for good. After that he'd turned down her mother's invitation to stay for lunch and had left promptly. Bulma hoped she was right when she'd though he looked pissed. Her hormones were making her vindictive and petty.

Other then the wild mood swings and the crazy cravings her pregnancy was pretty routine. She didn't have a lot of morning sickness, although her sense of smell jumped through the roof.

On one particularly warm evening she was sitting on her bed brushing her hair, her feet were swollen and her back was killing her. She could feel the southerly breeze that was blowing through her open balcony doors and breathed deep the scent of grass and wind and her mothers garden. With the next gust she picked up another scent, one that was masculine and brought on a gut wrenching response.

"Vegeta?" she whispered. She stood and walked to the balcony. In the grass below Vegeta seemed to be doing some stretching. She could barley make out the shape of his flame swept hair in the dim starlight. She closed her eyes and breathed in deep, his smell filling her mind and her senses. The memories of him she'd been so carefully guarding came crashing in on her all at once.

The way his eyes seemed to flash with anger and excitement, all at once, when he fought with her. The smallest upturn to his smirk when he found himself so very amusing. His touch, so demanding, yet gentle. The way his mouth tasted when he claimed her lips in a deep and passionate kiss. The way his body moved as he thrust in and out, in and out. Suddenly she felt a gushing between her legs and she cursed him for having such an effect on her even as she stood alone, his child in her womb. Her stomach clenched violently and she fell to her knees, her arms wrapped around her bulging abdomen.

Bulma gasped in pain as she doubled over, her body huddling against the railing. And then he was just... there.

"Woman," he growled as he knelt beside her frowning intensely. She felt his hands on her stomach carefully as she grimace in pain.

"I'm fine, Vegeta," she hissed through her teeth. "Don't trouble yourself,"she rallied behind her anger and forced the pain down.

"Don't be obstinate woman, you're birthing time is come," he eyed her soaked pajama pants and felt her womb contracting under his hand. "You need to get medical help." He moved to slide his arms around her back and under her knees.

"Don't touch me!" she shrieked. The pain was receding. She gathered her strength and pushed away from him. Standing on her own two feet she leaned against the railing and glared at him. "You think you can just come back here now and act all helpful and noble now that I'm ready to give birth. Well that's not the way it works. This is my problem, remember? My problem, and I'm dealing with it my way! I don't need you! I plan on having MY child just fine with out you! You can just..." her words cut off as she was hit by another painful ripping in her gut. She hunched over, clutching her stomach. "OH, Kami..." she grunted. "Don't just stand there!" she hissed. "Take me to the damned doctor already!" she screeched as the pain drove her to her knees again.

Vegeta scowled as he scooped her up and took off for the nearest hospital. Bulma clutched his shirt until the pain subsided enough that she could open her eyes. "Not so fast, Vegeta!" she shrieked. "If you haven't noticed, I'm kind of in labor here. You don't want to put me in danger while I'm in my delicate condition..." She gasped as another contraction hit.

"Too fast...." she hissed. "They're coming too close together. We're never going to make it!" She tipped back her head and screamed for all she was worth.

Vegeta's ears were ringing. "Shut up, Woman," he muttered, "You're going to be fine so stop your shrieking." He landed just outside the emergency room at West Capital's largest hospital. Bulma wondered how he'd know where to go as another contraction hit her.

"Son of a Bitch!" she screamed as he carried her inside. "This is all your fault you fucking ass hole!" Her insides felt like they were on fire and her stomach felt as though it were trying to crush the flames out. "I never want to fucking see you ever ever again!" She howled as Vegeta placed her in a wheelchair he'd seized by tossing a young man with a broken leg across the room.

"This woman needs a doctor now," he said in his most dangerous voice to a stunned nurse. "She is about to deliver my child." He pushed the wheelchair towards the still stunned woman. "Take her now."

"Your child!" Bulma laughed bitterly. "Ha! If that isn't a cosmic fucking joke! Kami, what was I thinking!" she winced as another wave of pain swept up her body. "Don't leave me, Vegeta!" she reached for his hand and gripped it in her fist.

Vegeta was surprised to find he couldn't pull his arm away. The Woman's power level was spiking intensely with each labor pain. "You don't need me, Woman," he said, hunching down to speak to her at eye level. "You are strong." He whispered as the nurse began pushing her away. Her grip on his hand forced him to follow.

"No, I'm not," Bulma whimpered, "I'm not strong, I'm weak. Please, I need you! I don't want to do this alone!" she begged but the pain was seeping away and with it her unnatural strength. Vegeta stopped walking and his arm pulled from her grip. The nurse pushed her down the hall and around the corner. Away from Vegeta. She sobbed his name as they placed her on the bed and removed her clothes. They barely had time to wrap one of those flimsy gowns around her body before she was screaming bloody murder and cursing his name again.

45 minutes later she was huffing and puffy and pushing with all her might. There hadn't been time for any drugs. She screamed one last time as she felt the seemingly massive body of her baby push the last of the way out of her body and into the waiting doctors arms.

Gasping and sobbing in relief she laid back on the bed, her body drenched in sweat from head to toe. Her hair clung to her neck and shoulders. She lay there panting when she heard the first sharp cries of a baby. "My baby..." she breathed, sitting up carefully. She reached out and after a few seconds was rewarded with a warm little bundle, it's cries hearty and loud. "Oh, baby," she whispered smiling down at the scrunched up little face that was a mirror of his fathers in miniature.

"Congratulations, Miss Briefs, you have a healthy baby boy," the doctor said and then he stepped away to give mother and son a moment to meet.

Bulma looked in amazement at the tiny purple fuzz that crowned the baby's head. She brushed a finger over his forehead, pushing them aside and marveling at the feathery softness of his hair and skin. "Purple hair, just like papa..." she whispered in awe. "Trunks," she said firmly. "I will call you Trunks."

Then Trunks sighed and fell asleep.

On the roof of the hospital Vegeta listened carefully to what was going on in the room below. He had a son. A healthy and strong son. "Trunks," he whispered. After a moment of swelling pride he swallowed his emotions and took off.

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Joyous Kwanzaa, and Cheers for a shinny new year, Everyone!


	12. PB and A Revisited

1

A/N: *sigh* Gosh. I just love these two. They really are a lot of fun to write. Some language and a dash of lemon zest. (Don't worry, I didn't edit for content this time... lol)

Disclaimer: Dear Santa, Apparently I was a naughty girl this year, seeing as how I didn't get my one true wish this year for Christmas. However, I promise to be better in 2009, and as such I expect to find Vegeta, wearing nothing but a strategically placed red ribbon under my tree next Christmas. Until then I will have to settle with using him shamelessly in fictional writings and nighttime fantasies. Sincerely, Bulmaveg Otaku.

Chapter 12:

PB and A Revisited

The next evening was busy and excited at Capsule Corps. Bunni Briefs had invited all the neighbors as well as company employees and set up for a party worthy of royalty and superstars. Bulma and Trunks arrived home to a mass of people all shouting congratulations and wishing her and the baby well. She smiled and showed off her beautiful boy to any that wanted to see until she thought she might collapse from exhaustion.

"Papa," she whispered when her father showed up to introduce another important board member to his first grandson, "I think we've had enough for one day." She hugged the quietly sleeping new born to her chest and started walking for her room. Her father nodded and began shooing people back towards the buffet table.

Up in her room surrounded by peace and quite once again she watched her son sleep. Her chest swelled with such an intense feeling of love that she thought her heart might burst open. She cradled the little body to her chest and wondered if she would ever be able to put the little guy down.

The hairs on the back of her neck slowly rose. She glanced up slowly and saw a flicker of a shadow on the balcony. Standing, she walked over to the wide open double doors, but whoever it was had already gone. She smiled softly and walked back inside her room.

After a couple days of being pampered and catered to by her mother and father Bulma began to feel a bit restless. She gathered some baby supplies and her little son and carried him to her empty lab. Un-capsulating one of the baby cribs, she set it up next to her desk and placed the wiggling boy in it carefully. She went back to work, going over her notes and organizing her current projects. She found a folded piece of paper tucked in one of her work journals and read it slowly. Scribbled in her own messy hand she read the list.

Mission 1: Earn Vegeta's Trust

Mission 2: Get Vegeta to have Faith in her

Mission 3: Get Vegeta to smile

Mission 4: Become Vegeta's Friend

She smiled sadly and shook her head. It seemed like another lifetime when she'd believed herself capable of completing those missions. She'd been so naive. She crumpled up the list and tossed it in the trash. She understood now that things were never going to be that simple with Vegeta.

A while later she was surprised to hear the door open. In walked the very Saiyan Prince her thoughts had been on all day. He strode in, his first clenched around a bundle of clothing. "I require some new armor," he said simply as he tossed his old armor on her desk. "I would like you to duplicate this," he said pointing.

Bulma raised an eyebrow and folded her arms over her chest. "Oh really," she said her voice lilting with shock. "And I would feel compelled to do this for you, why?" Her question fell on deaf ears, however. Vegeta's attention was fixed on the crib by her desk. He stared silently at the baby who's arms were flailing aimlessly and legs kicked spastically. Bulma's face softened and suddenly she realized the armor was probably just an excuse.

"Vegeta, meet Trunks," she said stepping forward. "Trunks, this is your daddy." She indicated the frowning Saiyan. Two pairs of eyes locked. Vegeta stood still and frowned while Trunks continued to work on his coordination skills. Bulma watched in silent wonder as Vegeta frowned into the crib, seemingly transfixed.

Vegeta grunted. "Trunks?" he snorted the name with disgust. "What kind of name is Trunks?" he looked back at Bulma for the first time in several minutes.

"It's a human name. My father's actually. I figured since he would be raised by humans and grow up in a human world that it was only fitting." She sighed. She wasn't really angry with Vegeta, but there was a sort of constant throbbing in her chest whenever he was around either in body or in her thoughts. Which seemed to be mostly all the time.

Vegeta looked back at his son. His hand raised slightly, hesitantly he reached into the crib and let the tiny boy wrap his hand around one of his fingers. Vegeta's mouth twitched. "He will be strong." He stated quietly. "It's too bad he's such an ugly little mut," he smirked and pulled his hand away.

Bulma snorted with laughter but didn't point out the fact that Trunks was the spitting image of his father, minus the hair and the eye color, of course. She smiled as Trunks started to cry. Vegeta pinched his eyes shut and shook his head as though he had a headache coming on.

"Thanks a lot, Vegeta," she said as she reached into the crib and pulled Trunks into her arms. "Did that mean man scare you, Trunks," she asked, glaring at Vegeta from the corner of her eye. "Don't worry, I won't let him bother you anymore..." she cooed and shushed him until he quieted down. "I'll try to have something ready by next week," she told the scowling prince after a minute.

"Fine," he grunted and turned towards the door.

"Hey, Vegeta!" Bulma called after him. He turned and looked at her, his face stony, his eyes blank. "Thanks." She knew she was probably blushing now. "For taking me to the hospital, I mean." she looked down at her contented child. "We probably wouldn't have made it in time if it weren't for you. So, Thanks."

Vegeta's eyes softened slightly for a fraction of a second. Then he grunted and walked out. Bulma placed Trunks back in the crib and picked up Vegeta's armor. She examined the material and the design. After several minutes she had figured out several ways to improve on what he already had and started drawing up the plans.

A few days later Bulma left Baby Trunks with her mother and went to deliver the finished product to Vegeta. She carried one whole suit as well as a capsule that contained a wardrobe with several more. She knocked on the door to his bedroom even though she was certain he was still outside training. It was early yet and he probably wouldn't finish for another few hours. All the better. She didn't think it was a good idea for them to be around each other.

She laid the uniform across the bed making certain he would see it when he came in later and placed the capsule on top of it, right in the center. She fingered the material of the under garment. It was silky to the touch, but she knew for a fact that it could reflect an energy blast up to 50 kilo-joules and could withstand over 17 tons of torque before it would tear. Quite an upgrade from his other suit. She'd taken the original design and incorporated some of the same materials she used in G.S. 2.1.

She frowned as her hand slid off the fabric and fell back to her side. She knew it didn't really matter what she'd done. Vegeta was never going to appreciate all her hard work. She might as well be beating her head against a titanium wall. He was so stubborn and selfish. He never thought of anyone but himself. She clenched her fist and, just for a minute, let all the hurt and the anger she felt towards him run rampant. Her nails dug in to her skin making half-moon expressions of her pain. She hardly noticed, even when blood began to trickle between her fingers and over her knuckles. Her eyes burned and soon there were tears running chaotic patterns over her cheeks down to her chin and on to her neck. Her chest and stomach clenched as though someone had tossed her torso into a garbage compacter. The pressure stole her breath and for a second she wasn't sure if she'd ever breathe again. Her heart pounded futilely against the cage of her chest. Each bum-bump of it's beating filled her body with the torment and hopelessness she felt. Until each cell of her body was saturated with the bitter, sharp pain of her desperation and frustration.

She drew a cool, calming breath, in through her nose. The swelling of her lungs released the invisible bands on her chest, quieted her thrumming heart and washed away the heartache. With her exhale she let go of all that negative emotion and expelled it into the air like tiny, tiny razor blades that were no longer being forced through her veins.

She nearly sobbed with the relief. She could still her feelings for Vegeta smoldering like a small blackened coal in the bottom of her heart, but for now the hate and the anger were gone. She'd know who he was all along. Before Namek, before Frieza, before she'd made him her little project. She'd chosen to worm her way into his life and she'd chosen to let their relationship turn physical.

The pain and torment he must of suffered in his life had shaped and molded him into the hardened warrior that he was today. She could still see the goodness in him. She knew that underneath that fired exterior there was passion and even the capacity for love and friendship. She'd seen it in the way Vegeta had helped her friends, the way he touched her at their most intimate moments, and yes, even the way that he looked at his son. She hadn't been wrong about Vegeta having the possibility of being more, of being better. What she understood now was that she would not be the one to show it to him. Only Vegeta himself would be able to convince the dark prince of the existence of light in his own soul.

All she could do was show him the goodness in herself and others and hope that someday he might recognize in himself what she already saw. She had to believe that the day might come that a miracle might happen. She had to believe in Vegeta and the man that he could be. She would continue to help him and, Kami help her, to love him. And someday... maybe.

She raised a hand to wipe the drying tears from her face but stopped when she noticed the blood on her fingers. Now that she could see the little slices in her epidermis they suddenly hurt like hell. She winced as she examined them knowing they would not be the last taste of pain she experience because of...

"Vegeta!" she gasped as she turned to leave and spotted him standing in the doorway. His face was lacerated and bruised on one side and he was leaning against the door frame as though it were the only thing keeping him on his feet. His condition melted her shock into concern. "You look awful!" she stepped towards him, her own minor injuries forgotten.

"I'm fine," he mumbled and stepped into the room. "What are you doing here?" he asked, but he didn't even sound like he had the energy to be angry.

"I was just bring that armor you requested by." Bulma waved at the bed and the things she'd placed there to help prove her case. "Kami, Vegeta..." she whispered as he stood, bleeding on the carpet. He took a step into the room and nearly collapsed face first. Bulma stepped forward and caught his weight. She kept him from face planting in the carpet but that was about it. His weight brought her to her knees and she struggled to keep them both upright. "What did you do to yourself?" she whispered trying to examine his facial wounds.

"I just... finished the... level 50 exercise in... 920... times gravity," He coughed harshly and she was relieved when there wasn't any blood in that cough.

"Are you trying to kill yourself," she asked rhetorically as she supported his weight and helped him to the bed. She leaned him against the headboard and then used one hand to sweep his new suit onto the floor, along with the capsule she'd worked so hard on. Bulma grunted as she lifted his legs onto the bed and helped him settle under the covers.

"I just need... some sleep..." he breathed, his body seeming to collapse into the sheets.

"What you need is a doctor. And possibly a straight jacket," she muttered that last part to herself.

"No!" he coughed again and grabbed her wrist. "No doctors." he said with a strength she was surprised he could muster. She sat next to him, his hand still wrapped around her arm.

"At least let me get a rag. So I can clean up some of this blood before you ruin these sheets completely," she protested mildly sure he was going to pass out any second anyway and then she'd just go a head and treat him herself.

As Vegeta laid there his breathing slowed and his body relaxed more and more every second. His eyes lingered on his hand on her wrist. Under his drooping eyelids he looked up into her face. Slowly his face eased into a scowl. She watched as he carefully raised his other hand and brushed his thumb over the partially dried streaks on her cheek.

Bulma forced herself not to melt under his light caress. It had been so many months since he'd let her get this close to him. She had missed him and his touch. She gave him an awkward shrug and turned her face away from him. He studied her for a second more and then raised the hand he held, turning her palm up to examine the marks there. She turned back and looked down at them. The little cuts were already scabbing over and the bleeding had long since stopped.

"I did this," he whispered. It was not a question.

Bulma pulled her hand away and stood up. "No, I just... cut myself in the lab. It's nothing." She hid her hands behind her back, but Vegeta had already seen her pain.

"Liar," he said, suppressing another cough.

"I'm going to be okay," Bulma stated putting a note of steal in her voice. "It's the self-destructive alien prince that is entirely too fond of overdoing it that I'm worried about. Stay put, I'm going to go get something to clean you up."

"Why do you give a damn," he asked, his voice was harsh, but when Bulma looked back at him she could see the genuine curiosity in his eyes.

"That is a very good question, Vegeta," she admitted shrugging her shoulders and shaking her head. "I guess... I give a damn because whether you're the strongest most ruthless man I know or not, you're still just a man. And like it or not that means you don't deserve to be alone. At least in my book. So get used to it. You aren't as evil as you think you are and you aren't going to scare me away, no matter what." And with that she left the room. When she returned with first aid kit he was unconscious.

Vegeta arose the next morning and went back to training. Bulma was not in the least surprised by that. She returned to working in the lab and caring for her son. Baby Trunks was a ray of sunshine in her somewhat dismal mess of a life. He was a very good baby, easy to smile and laugh and he was pretty good about sleeping through the night.

The weeks past and Bulma recovered fully from the birth. She had to hit the gym for a couple months to get her pre-pregnancy body back in top shape but her high metabolism and naturally great body made it relatively easy. Her hair had grown rapidly through out her pregnancy and now it was past the bottom of her shoulder blades. She kept it pulled up most of the time. It was always getting in her way and Trunks was constantly trying to wrap his little fist in her locks and pull with all his might. Which was quite hard. Vegeta was right about that. He was already insanely strong for an infant. She needed to make an appointment to get it cut, she thought as she sat playing with her son.

"Where's Trunks?" Bulma giggled, her hands over her eyes. She pulled her hands away and smiled at him. "There's my baby boy!" she laughed as the baby gurgled happily. "You wanna get a snack? Huh? Mommy needs something sweet," She placed the baby in his portable rocker and carried him into the kitchen. She set him carefully on the counter and made sure he was stable before pulling open the fridge. She examined the contents looking for just the right thing to clench her craving. Eyeing the fruit crisper she pulled it open and grabbed out an apple. "This is one of mommy's favorites!" she said loudly for the baby's benefit. "Just hang on while I grab the peanut butter." She set the fruit on the counter and pulled open the cupboard. "Here we go, Trunks! Now, you aren't old enough for this yet, but don't worry. Someday soon you'll be lucky enough to join your momma in partaking in the most daring fruit/condiment combination since Strawberries and Whipped Cream." She made faces at him while she sliced up the apple.

Vegeta heard his stomach growl loudly. His training was once again at a stand still. It seemed no matter how hard he pushed, no matter how many grueling hours he spent stressing his mental and physical limits he just couldn't break the barrier. He was tired and hungry and he was starting to loose faith. He shut off the Simulator and toweled the sweat from his brow. He needed a break. And some food.

He stalked angrily into the house, his frustration rolling off him like fumes from a toxic waste dump. He slammed the door on the way into the main housing facilities and barely kept himself from punching a hole in the wall. He was starting to loose control of himself. His temper was itching for the littlest excuse to flare up.

He entered the kitchen to find the Woman standing at the counter holding something up to his brat who was seated in some kind of carrying device.

"Here you go, Trunks. Go ahead, make some applesauce for mommy," she laughed as his little fist closed around the small slice of apple. She dipped another slice in the open peanut butter container and bit it off smiling as her son pulverized the fruit into mash. "See it's fun!" she laughed as the baby waved his chubby little arm and tossed apple goo all over himself.

She bent over to retrieve a cleaning rag from a drawer and Vegeta found his gaze lingering on her generous curves. Her hair was tied back in a single band, but it swung over her shoulder and draped across her arm in a very enticing way as she closed the drawer . He shook his head and tried to clear his thoughts, but his frustration had already shifted gears. His temper had subsided in exchange for another wholly opposite kind of emotion. It had been many months since he'd been with the Woman. Considering his problems a different kind of release might be called for.

Bulma gasped in surprise as a pair of strong arms appeared around her waist and she was suddenly pulled back against a firm and familiar body. Her stomach turned into butterflies and her heart relocated to her throat as a face buried itself in her neck.

"Wha... What are you doing, Vegeta?" she asked frozen in place.

"What does it look like, Woman?" he spoke into her neck, his voice was deep and rough and she could feel the vibrations of it against her skin. Vegeta slid one hand up to her breasts and another down over her hip. His hands moved in a possessive exploratory manner that brought heat to Bulma's cheeks, as well as a few other places.

Bulma still held the washcloth in one hand and a half eaten apple slice in the other. Her traitorous body was doing cheers and cartwheels inside but she had not yet decided what to do. She felt one hand disappear from her body only to have it slowly pulling out her hair band an instant later. She lost the battle to repress a shudder and she felt Vegeta press his face into her now loose hair and breath deeply. Her knees threatened to give and her hands lowered to the counter of their own volition.

Vegeta let the scent of the Woman fill his senses. 'Yes...' he though, 'This is what I want...' He moved his face back to her neck and began making a trail of kisses and nibbles from the back of her ear to her collar bone. He pulled her back against him and ground his hips into her ass. He smirked as she moaned softly, her body relaxing slowly against his. Any fear that she might reject his advances disappeared then and he slid a hand up her shirt to her even larger then normal breasts.

He was careful as he kneaded the sensitive orbs, bringing another pleasurable utterance from her lips as she leaned her head back on his shoulder and arched her back to press herself into him more firmly. He was trying to decide whether to throw her over his shoulder and march her upstairs or just take her here against the kitchen counter when they were interrupted.

A glob of mashed apple had fallen into Baby Trunks' eye and he started to wail. Bulma went stiff in Vegeta's arms at the sound. Vegeta growled, but she ignored him and turned to the baby, pulling away from him.

"Oh, Trunks! I'm so sorry, baby. You got some in your eye, didn't you?" She quickly ran the cloth under some water and then moved quickly to clear away the offending mess. "I have to get him cleaned up," she said over her shoulder as she wiped down the rest of the boy's face. She then picked him up and started brushing off his clothes. "Oh, Kami, he's got it everywhere..." she mumbled. Secretly she was just as pissed about the interruption as Vegeta was, but at the same time she was glad. She just wasn't ready to go jumping back into Vegeta's bed just yet.

"I'm gonna have to change him now," she said, her face halfway apologetic. "Excuse me," she said as she slipped past the snarling Saiyan and made for the nursery.

Vegeta stood shaking his face a mask of fury and downright homicidal mania. His anger was back but his lust had not abated in it's wake. Now he was twice as frustrated and there was no end in sight. His torment seemed infinite. There was less then a year until the androids arrived and he had yet to ascend. And to top it all off it seemed he was to be forever distracted by that infernal Woman and her unholy body. And now, with a baby in the picture it seemed he was going to be thwarted from even that release.

It was too much! He slammed his fist down on the marble counter top and effectively obliterated the rest of the apple into a soggy paste. He was losing control of everything. He had to get out of this place! Staying a moment longer could possibly threaten his last shred of sanity. He practically flew out of the house and around to the back of the complex. Sure enough his original Capsule Corps. 3 was parked, vacant and silent.

He charged on board and powered up the engines. Checking to make sure the fuel gage was on full he silently praised the old man's attention to detail. He set the launch sequence and, without looking back, blasted into the frozen emptiness of space.

Bulma heard the roar of the rockets as she finished fastening Trunks fresh and clean dipper. It took her a second to place the noise and then, realizing what it probably was, she scooped up the baby and took off for the yard. She reached the freshly made scorch marks just in time to see the space ship wink out of sight. Her father and mother came running around the side of the complex about the same time.

"What's going on?" Her father shouted over the last of the noise.

"Did someone take your father's ship?" Bunni asked Bulma as her eyes searched the sky.

Bulma stood stunned for a minute before she could answer either of them. "Yeah, I think it was Vegeta. He's gone." she stated her eyes moving over the now empty yard.

"Oh, dear," her mother said in her vacant way, "I wish I'd know he was leaving. I'd have packed him a lunch."

"He didn't even ask if he could use the ship," Her father muttered grumpily, his mustache twitching.

"Well that's Vegeta for you," Bulma sighed. "Didn't even say goodbye." She curled the half naked baby against her. "I guess your daddy doesn't take rejection very well," she half laughed. "But don't worry, Trunks. Your daddy will be back. I know he will." She turned and carried her son into the house. 'I just know it...' she thought, and was surprised to discover that she really did.


	13. Finale Finally

Disclaimer: Me not own Vegeta.

Chapter 13:

Finale. Finally.

One would think that the immeasurable expanse of space would be relatively safe, that the odds of running into something dangerous in the midst of so much nothing would be infinitely small. Perhaps it was an example of the undeniable law of attraction at work, perhaps it was simply an outward manifestation of the turmoil of his own soul, but when Vegeta found himself in the middle of a terrific lighting storm, he was not surprised. In fact, he felt as though he'd found the very thing he was searching for.

After several weeks of wandering aimlessly through the endless expanse of darkness and silence, he had finally found the danger he knew would be waiting for him. He'd trained ceaselessly since leaving Earth. The gravity simulator in the space craft maxed out at 450 G's, but he made up for the lack of resistance by pushing the boundaries of his endurance. He didn't pause to sleep or eat, not once did he give distraction a chance to creep in. His escape seemed complete, his focus so impenetrable he felt himself sliding into an altered state of consciousness and being.

The only pause he'd made in his grueling stretch of training was to land the ship on a small, uninhabited planetoid. When he had submitted himself, once again, to the merciless taskmaster of his ego and the drill sergeant of his drive for ascension, he slipped easily back into that other place in his mind. Time had no meaning for him. He WAS the arch of his foot, reaching for the face of an imagined foe. He was outside the kick, analyzing from a distance every imperfection in angle of force or movement from point to point, seeing almost in slow motion as it was executed again and again until it felt right and looked right. Then he would do it a few hundred more times.

He did not know how long he had been there. Suddenly, without warning, he was brought back to himself as his last ounce of energy was spent. That feeling of beingness was sucked from him as the final vestiges of his strength were burned up. He stopped, his breath ragged and every cell in his body screaming from misuse. He moved to the console and shut down the simulator just as the shield of energy protecting him from the extra force fizzled out. He'd held that shield so long it was like a part of him and he felt the loss of it as he would a missing limb. Sagging to his knees, he concentrated on keeping his heart beating. It was reckless for him to have driven himself to such a point. An outsider might have called him suicidal, but that was far from the truth. It was, in fact, his clinging to Self that had driven him into space and into this frenzied abuse in the first place.

As he lay back onto the metal panels and forced his diaphragm to continue expanding and retracting, every bone on the brink of snapping, every muscle fiber seconds from tearing, he felt Cleansed. Any confusion as to his mission in life, about who he was had been incinerated in the intensity of his workout. He was a warrior, a killing machine. His purpose was to conquer, to command, to be the strongest. It was who he was, with every particle of essence within him. There was no room for anything else.

His mind blurred slightly with light-headed ness. His clarity was momentarily shattered as the utterly overwhelming weakness threatened to take over completely. Vegeta had thought he had understood what it meant to reach ones limits, to feel exhaustion and pain. He'd never know the half of it. Never had he had to put so much thought into just staying alive. Never had he hurt so much. Never had he longed for sleep more.

Vegeta smiled.

The moonlight that fell across the room was twisted and tormented by the fluttering of her drapes. It stretched it's menacing fingers across the open expanse of carpet and then skittered up over the dust ruffle and onto the sheets. Oblivious the silent stalking of the lunar rays, Bulma slept on unrestfully. Her dreams were liquid shards and silken fragments that contracted and expanded in meaningless patterns that were, for no apparent reason, mentally uncomfortable.

Almost gratefully, she was startled awake by a distressed squawk that poured out of the baby monitor next to her bed. Anxious dreams and haunting moonlight forgotten, she slid from bed and pushed the sheets aside.

"Trunks?" she called, as she walked from her room, down the hall to the nursery. "What's wrong, baby?" she yawned, her eyes falling on the screaming infant. Concern folded her features as she raised her son from his crib and cradled him lovingly in her arms. "Shhhh..." She whispered. "Mommy's here now." She checked her son's diaper, but it wasn't even wet. She grabbed a bottle from the mini-fridge in his room, but he just twisted his head away when she tried to put the nipple in his mouth, crying even louder. "Trunks? What's the matter? Did you have a bad dream?" She set the bottle down and cuddled him against her shoulder, rubbing his back in soothing circles and kissing his head and face and neck gently. His screams quieted, but he continued to cry.

After an hour or checking every possible cause of his discomfort from his ears to changing his dry diaper and pajamas, little Trunks was still crying. Exhausted and frustrated, Bulma held him and bounced him rhythmically on her arm. Tired of pacing in the confines of the nursery she walked into the hallway. As she passed her doorway she glanced longingly at her empty bed, but continued down the hallway whispering and cooing to the still bawling babe.

She didn't want to wake her parents, but part of her wondered if she was going to need some help with this one. She didn't understand why he was crying. She checked every possible thing that she knew to check. Nothing seemed to be physically wrong with her son. "I wish you could talk to me, Trunks."

His crying quieted to a whimper. "Thank Kami," she sighed and turned around and headed back towards the nursery. Instantly his crying got louder again. "Oh no..." she cursed quietly and turned back around. "Okay, sorry! I'm sorry." She walked back a few steps and then he lowered his voice again. Bulma wouldn't be fooled again. She'd make sure he was asleep before she tried to take him back to his room.

She continued down the hallway on her path, but, after a few feet, Trunks started to wail again. Bulma scoffed. "I guess it doesn't really matter what I do, does it?" She felt like laughing. "You are too much like your father, Trunks..." Bulma's voice trailed off as she glanced over her shoulder. "Your father..." she paused and then walked backwards a few feet. Sure enough Trunks hushed again. She was standing in front of Vegeta's room.

Operating on a desperate hunch Bulma opened the door and stepped into Vegeta's room. Trunks whimpering slowed. Bulma felt her heart nearly bursting. "You miss your daddy, Trunks? Is that it?" She carried the now mewling infant into the center of the room and looked around. She felt like crying, too. "Yeah, kiddo, I know. She carefully opened the closet and reached inside. Pulling one of the identical training suits off a hanger she held it to Trunks.

The silent baby reached out and grabbed onto the slippery fabric for all he was worth. Shaking his arms up and down he waved the suit like an oversized flag. Trunks smiled. Bulma felt a warm flood edge over the corner of her eyes. Holding her son close she laid on the bed Vegeta had once used and, while her son cooed and waved the only piece of his father left behind, Bulma cried herself to sleep.

Vegeta didn't sleep. It was more like his body just shut down, leaving only the basest of life support running. There was no way to measure time in such a state. As such, he didn't know if he'd been out for weeks or mere seconds when his eyes were suddenly open and his internal (and external) alarms were going off. The sphere of the ship was dark except for the intermittent flashes of light and the regular turn of the red warning light overhead.

He was surprised to find he had the strength to stand. The feeling of total and utter exhaustion had only faded slightly, but he had probably been out for a good long while to have recovered this much energy. He only stumbled a little as he made his way to the main console. The readout on the computer confirmed what he could see out the viewing screen. His little planet was in the midst of a terrible lightning storm.

Vegeta felt a strange joy seeping up from his primal core through the exhaustion and a familiar smirk slid across his face. He allowed that urge propel him across the room where he signaled the outer doors to open. When he stepped outside he felt the energy of the storm dancing in the air. It seemed to lend him it's power as charged ions crashed violently from the sky.

Moving with renewed confidence he levitated to the rise of a rocky cliff. With every passing second he felt his strength returning his ki recharging merely from contact with the electrified air. He closed his eyes and breathed in the acrid scent of burning ozone.

He let all the emotion he kept buckled down deep inside his steely chest explode into the atmosphere. All his frustration at being surpassed by Kakarrot, all his rage at being unable to ascend despite his intense training and sheer desire to do so, even the longing he felt when he pictured pale exposed flesh and tumbling blue locks and the swelling of pride he felt when his son squeezed his finger with the incredible strength of a saiyan baby. All of it ripped from his body and expanded. He felt that strange altered consciousness return to him as he was suddenly aware of the planet and his body, linked as one, but completely separate from his mind all at the same time.

Feeling everything and nothing he watched as his emotions, the rage and the frustration, and the passion and the pride, as they melded with the lightning. Dancing their violent dance, they clashed against each other, warring just as they had in his soul. He felt empty as they fought for dominance, seemingly separate from himself. Calm and composed he stood while the planet raged around him.

Then the meteors started to fall. Somehow the fierceness of the storm had altered the planets gravitational field and had pulled the small orbiting moon into its own atmosphere. The force of it all was breaking the moon into chunks, fragments that were beginning to fall at an alarming rate.

Vegeta pulled himself together, breaking his link with the storm and leapt into the air. Without thinking he began to blast any rocks that were falling in the vicinity of his ship. Working ceaselessly for several minutes he cleared the air around him and his ride off this tortured rock from the lunar debris. The meteors began to thin, leaving the air open, but filled with swirling, abysmal looking clouds.

Vegeta began to feel the rush of victory just as the sky ripped open. The clouds evaporated in the burning path of the rest of the moon. The mother of all meteors was headed right for him. He grit his teeth and leveled a blast at the heart of the falling rock. The immense weight and force of it's fall from the heavens pressed down on him and he was pushed back. He growled in his throat and reached deeper knowing he'd have to tap into his energy to get more strength. Only there wasn't anything there.

In the wake of the storm and the meteor shower he'd completely forgotten his exhaustion, but it came crashing back on him now as he reached to his core for more ki. His reservoir was empty. He absolutely had nothing left.

"No!" he screamed and pushed with all he did have, straining his muscles which were already decreased from his extended lack of food, he glanced back at his ship. This was it. He was going to die alone in the emptiness of space, too weak to protect himself from one stupid rock. He would never get off this rock. Never return to Earth. He would never defeat Kakarrot, never be a super saiyan. He would never see his son grow to manhood, never see the strength he would undoubtable have. He would never see the Woman again, never feel her body wrapped around his, the warmth of her seeping into the cold hollow of his heart and soul, never hear her voice as it shrieked at him incessantly.

"Well, thank Kami for small favors," he whispered sardonically as he felt the last of his strength exiting his palm and pressing at the object of his doom. He accepted his fate, but he refused to give up. He was a warrior and he would go out fighting. He screamed at the bitter irony.

Seconds before his heart gave out the massive meteor exploded in a shower of dust and a shockwave that sent him careening into the planet below. With no energy left to shield himself he felt the full force of every broken bone and lacerated inch of skin.

Crawling from the crater his own body had made in the planets surface he felt blood running over the back of his knuckles. He should be dead and he knew it. His vision blurred as he stared at his gloves, ripped into nearly nothing. His suit had sustained only a few minor rips and tears. He realized suddenly that it had been his suit, and probably the modifications that the woman had made to it, that had saved his life. Just when he thought the universe had gotten it's fill of laughing at him it sent him one last merciless jab to his pride.

He had trained so hard, worked with everything in him to surpass Kakarrot and become a Super Saiyan and all it had done was made him so weak he'd nearly been done it by one lousy meteor. Only to be spared his life by the one person he had fought so hard to keep out of his life. It was ridiculous! Worse then ridiculous it was madness personified. How could he have allowed his existence to be reduced to such a cosmic joke!?

"That's it!" he screamed. "I don't care anymore!" Kneeling in the rubble he raised his fists to the sky, "Do you hear me?! I don't care!"

Inside something snapped.

The air around him exploded in shards of gold.

The last 4 months had been tough on Bulma. She'd gone from hopeful to depressed to angry in a matter of weeks. It wasn't even because of herself either. It was because of poor Trunks. Every night since that first night she'd only managed to get him to sleep if he was wrapped in his fathers clothes. The thought that her son was so attached to the father that would probably never love him back broke her heart all over again. She could handle her own pain. That was easy. But how do you explain to a child what Vegeta was?

Eventually she'd figured out it was really just the familiar scent that Trunks seemed to need near him. It was probably some Saiyan thing, she had said to her father with a snort of disgust, but part of her was relieved that Trunks didn't actually seem to be missing the ornery bastard himself.

Finally, Bulma had found acceptance and even a certain amount of contentment in with their screwed up little family. She decided that she wouldn't want to change anything that would mean not having Trunks her smart, strong, special, little spirited boy.

On the morning of May 12th Bulma packed up baby Trunks in her fastest capsule car and headed for the rendevous with her friends, despite her parents objections. She wanted to show her son to all her friends before the had to go off and fight. And she was sure she would see Vegeta there as well. He hadn't returned to Capsule Corps, but her father assured her that the space ship had landed a few hours before. He'd been casually tracking it's progress through space and reported to her the second it had touched down.

She'd considered waiting to see if he's show up there, but decided it was unlikely and didn't want to risk it. She'd be damned if she was going to miss the androids. Her professional and intellectual curiosity would not be denied. Besides, she knew he wouldn't miss this fight for anything in the world. He'd be there. Vegeta might not be glad to see her, but she felt an intense need to see him with her own eyes and make sure he was sped off, her spirits soaring. She was going to see Goku and Gohan and Krillin! She was even looking forward to seeing Yamcha. They would beat these androids and then... and then they could all take a vacation. She pictured Vegeta in a bathing suit and sunshades and burst up laughing. Who knew what the future would hold. The possibilities were endless.

In the back seat baby Trunks waved his arms and joined his mother in laughing.

Vegeta hovered over the forest he'd landed in many hours earlier. He'd spent half the day meditating, calmly preparing his mind for the battle ahead. Over the last few months he'd managed to gain the focus he needed to be able to transform at will. Finding the trigger had helped. Not surprisingly, Vegeta's trigger was rage, but he'd never admit at whom. It wasn't Kakarrot or even himself. It was Her! It was her fault he'd been denied ascension until he'd suffered utter humiliation by her hands!

The air around him crackled and the tops of the closest trees began to smolder. He took a deep breath, suppressing that rage until it was needed. Even that was probably some kind of victory on her part. He had rested and healed and eaten his fill, and he had meditated in order to get a reign on the power.

The amount of energy produced by the transformation was still almost more then he could control. It taken him months to even get as far as he had. Now, however, he was out of time.

The alarm had gone off a week ago telling him it was time to return Earth in order to arrive in time for the androids arrival. So here he was. Waiting. He did not know the exact location of the androids arrival. He was still unfamiliar with most of the planet. True, he could have put the coordinates into the ships computer, but he wanted to make a better entrance.

As soon as the battle began, he would sense Kakarrot's energy. And then he would... Ah, yes. There it was. Vegeta's eyes snapped open.

"Time to play," he smirked and took off.

The End

A/N: *puts hands in the air* Please! Show mercy! If you want to know what happens next just watch the series! There's that whole thing with Goku getting sick, and the androids, and then Cell...

As some of you may have guessed from the chapter title this is the end of Project: Vegeta. Winter is my busy season and I won't have time to write for a while, but this felt like a good ending. As soon as spring hits and things slow down I'll be back, don't you worry. I have some good ideas for future stories including a sequel to this starting right after the Cell games and covering the years between that and the world championship/Great Saiyaman saga, the sequel to Stormy Bond, a challenge piece that I started but never finished in time for the contest that I think is pretty interesting... as well as what will probably be my magnum opus. That's right. Brewing in my brain almost constantly is an idea for an alternate reality piece that, I think, will be pretty freaking amazing. If I can ever get it written. I've also got some ideas for one shots that I might try and find time to squeeze in over the next few months or so. Here's hoping!

In closing, I would like to thank all my faithful readers and especially those of you that reviewed with your suggestions and encouragement. You guys rock!

P.S. I know I took some pretty powerful liberties with the whole meteor/ascension scene. It doesn't exactly match what Vegeta had described as what happened, but in my defense, he could have lied. In fact, I'm sure he would have if it meant saving face and he probably would have wanted to hide his true power level and whatnot when it came to his training G's too. So there. *raspberry*

Bulmaveg_Otaku


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